Not for the weak of Heart

Life vs Death, and the reality of it.

I have always been shocked at stories I hear about death in Haiti, and the lack of it I have experienced first hand. It's not that death shocks me anymore, or that it is uncommon, but the lack of dignity in it. The bitterness of it tends to linger on. 

I spoke to my brother on the phone last night. He lived in Haiti last year for 3 months so he 'gets it'. Where as other people don't. I asked him what he did when he saw and had to deal with disturbing things I asked him what he said to people and his answer was simply - "You don't." You don't share moments like that with your friends or family, people won't get it. So I shared with him.

On our drive from Cazele to Port we passed a dead body on the road. A first I thought it was roadkill, an animal. Even after it took me a minute to realize it was a human being, a person like you and me. His body was positioned so strangely that my mind didn't recognize it. Then in a second, we had passed and it was out of site. I don't know if he had been killed and his body discarded onto the road- or if he had been hit by a vehicle that continued on, leaving him for dead. The thing was though, I didn't feel anything. I didn't feel the need to cry or cover my eyes or call my Mum or talk about it. It didn't upset me, seeing the body, and knowing what I was seeing. I thought about how the police weren't there yet, or if the UN would get involved. Then wondered why those were my first thoughts. 

Next I thought about his family. I wondered if he had one, and that he was the male, and probably the sole provider for them. I wondered if he had kids. I wondered how his parents would handle the news. I wondered if he had been missing or had been involved with gangs and this would not shock anyone. These are the thoughts that saddened me. That's when I realized all I could do was to pray. I could pray for the people involved with his death, if he had been hit by a car or killed it would haunt them as well. I could pray for those he provided for. I could pray for his soul and that he had known Jesus before he died. 

Looking back now I think that was why I was not emotional towards the situation- tragedy though it was. I could do nothing about it. Why cry about something I cannot change? Instead I could pray and hope for the best outcome. It does not make me a twisted person, it does not make me heartless or numb. I do not know yet if I will share this posting, or how receptive you will all be towards it. But if I do, my hope is you can simply comprehend it.