By FRED KRONER
Tragedies have grown worse.
That is in no way meant to diminish the magnitude and impact of the horrific events of the past.
It is a commentary on the state of the world as we’ve come to know it during the past six weeks, since the COVID19 pandemic has hit home with its full force.
Life in itself has continued thanks in part to the ingenuity of persons who have developed plans to educate our children while they are isolated in their individual homes. Many of us have limited our activities and have accepted that many of the daily pleasures we took for granted – watching sporting events, for example, or dining out to celebrate a special occasion – are on an indefinite hold.
Events have spiraled out of control quicker than a wildfire on a windy afternoon. Layoffs and furloughs have affected a majority of our country. Our individual financial situations have swerved from difficult to devastating.
It has long since passed the stage of inconvenience.
The loss of life is in numbers that would have been considered unthinkable three months ago.
Also unthinkable is what occurs after a family’s loved one has passed away, either from the coronavirus or another ailment or from natural causes.
As a society, for generations we have gathered together to mourn the deceased and also to comfort the survivors. It is a time for healing as well as for closure.
Whether it is a visitation, a wake or a celebration of life, this is an important part of the process. We can openly grieve as we share stories and memories and tears. We can also witness first-hand how many people’s lives were touched by the deceased.
Often, we are surprised. I am reminded of a time in the past decade when a person passed away and the family elected to have only a graveside service. “What would it be like,” one survivor wondered, “if we had a funeral and no one came?”
In that particular case, dozens of people showed up at the graveside service.
For the time being, it is inevitable that what might be described as a funeral – or at least the burial – takes place with only the closest of family in attendance. Literally no one else will come.
At one time, this would have been our worst nightmare. Now, it is a previously unimaginable reality.
We see the obituaries in our newspapers on almost a daily basis. Frequently there is a note in the article that a celebration of life will take place at a later date.
It is certainly a wise, prudent and necessary decision, but that doesn’t make it any easier for the family, along with relatives and friends, who must live without closure for an undetermined amount of time.
It’s not like we can say the celebration of life will be scheduled for two weeks from Wednesday. It probably won’t even be two months from Wednesday.
Those of us who have spent a number of years in adulthood are perhaps the best equipped to deal with this situation. Few in the Baby Boomer generation have not experienced significant losses.
It never gets easier as the occurrences become more frequent, but we recognize and understand the process. Many times – many more than I care to remember – I have gotten through these trying times thanks to a support group that includes other relatives and close friends.
I am sure I am not alone.
But now, those of us grieving for the loss of a family member or a devoted friend are virtually alone.
We can pick up the phone and call someone or log into our laptop and chat with others in a group setting, but these means of communication can not replace what is gained by a hug from a relative you haven’t seen for too long or sharing tears with a friend who is equally devastated by the loss.
While I quietly mourn by myself this week after learning of the passing of a former high school coach whom I had known for close to four decades, I am struck by another thought.
I can get through this. It’s not ideal, but I can rely on the memories of the times we shared and smile at the conversations – and yes, even the arguments – we had.
But what about teen-agers? How are they to cope when they learn about the loss of a classmate?
Just a few years ago, a prominent Mahomet-Seymour athlete passed away on a spring evening in an automobile accident in another county. Within hours – that same evening – an impromptu vigil was held at the high school soccer field.
Based on social media and word of mouth, enough people learned about this tribute, where mourners gathered in a circle, that hundreds were in attendance.
Many were other teen-agers and – I suspect – many of those were dealing with a sudden death for the first time in their lives.
That gathering was important, serving as a time to talk, to be with friends, to remember, to cry. Especially, to cry.
And now, as the community mourns the loss of another teen-ager taken too soon, our only option is to deal with it from afar.
It’s not safe to collectively gather to show our respects en masse or to demonstrate how we are all part of one big – really big – family, ready to support or guide or lend a shoulder to lean on or an ear that will listen.
What do we tell our teen-agers about how to handle the pain from an unexpected departure?
It’s an issue that must be addressed urgently in real time. There won’t be a right way or a wrong way, but there has to be a way.
That is the how and why about the manner in which tragedies have grown worse.
We can only hope that these grieving families are uplifted by the power of prayer from people who don’t currently have the ability to tell them face-to-face how they, too, are suffering from the death of their loved one.
