I read an article yesterday about an Australian couple who lost their three children, and the children’s grandfather, when Malaysian flight MH17 crashed in Ukraine.
From the couple’s public statement, many journalists emphasized the couple comparing life in their grief to “living in a hell beyond hell.” I have no doubt losing three of my children and one of my parents simultaneously would feel like some kind of hell beyond hell. Absolutely. However, it is interesting to me how the real message in the couple’s statement has not received much emphasis.
Grief brings a slow and painful sense of wandering. What does life look like now that something so central to my life is absent? What do I do now that the things I used to do seem to have no purpose or place? How do I maintain? How do I even begin to live again?
Here is part of the couple’s public address, and I think it tells us a lot about how grief sends us wandering and how we can wander well.
“No one deserves what we are going through.
Not even the people who shot our whole family out of the sky.
No hate in the world is as strong as the love we have for our children, for Mo, for Evie, for Otis.
No hate in the world is as strong as the love we have for Grandad Nick.
No hate in the world is as strong as the love we have for each other.
This is a revelation that gives us some comfort.
We would ask everyone to remember this when you are making any decisions that affect us and the other victims of this horror.
So far, every moment since we arrived home, we’ve been surrounded by family and friends. We desperately pray that this continues, because this expression of love is what is keeping us alive. We want to continue to know about your lives, all the good and all the bad. We no longer have lives that we want to live by ourselves. So we’d like to take the chance to thank everyone, all our incredible friends, family and communities, and to tell you all that we love you very much.”