Lessons Learned from an Epidemic

The current influenza epidemic has caused us all to take more precautions in our daily routines. News of outbreaks, hospitalizations and deaths brings on a heightened attention to the little things we can do to try to protect ourselves from the virus. I am reminded of the scare of the SARS epidemic of 2003. SARS was frightening because it was swift, deadly, highly contagious, and there was no vaccine available.  

My friend, Jerry Moye, lives in Hong Kong and teaches at the Hong Kong Baptist Theological Seminary.  During that SARS outbreak, Jerry described to me the safety measures that were being taken. Schools were closed, public outings were limited. Everyone tried to protect themselves from contamination. Jerry told me that the Chinese church that he attended decided to continue with limited Sunday worship, with no children’s programs, and opening the church only for those adults who were well and wanted to come. Jerry made the comment about what a sight it was to see the choir members singing while wearing surgical masks. That comment about church and surgical masks provided me with some insight about how we relate to one another which I elaborated upon in my poem, Unmasking the Mask.

Unmasking the Mask

  

In spite of the epidemic

The people gather on Sunday morning.

Singing hymns and greeting one another

Through surgical masks,

They are determined to carry on.

The sight of all those masks in church

Seems odd at first,

But we always wore the mask.

Sometimes an outsider,

Or a prophet,

Would challenge us

Using words like,

"Hypocrite,"

"Socialite,"

"Plastic saint."

Most of us

Allowed each other

The saving of face

By ignoring the mask.

Now, every mask is out in the open

Like flags of solidarity.

In the clear light of the epidemic

We see that sometimes a mask is needed

For protection.

There is always a risk,

Epidemic or not,

When we draw close to one another.

When we know it is safe,

We will remove the mask.

Until then

We will grant each other the right

To speak through the mask.

We all know

That touching and knowing

Are better than proximity,

That proximity

Is better than isolation.

We will venture as close as we can

And grant each other a safe place.

Mask or no mask.

                                     ~ Charles Kinnaird

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Remembering Those Who have Gone Before Us (Part 2)

“Death ends a life, not a relationship”
– Robert Benchley


Special bonds that exist in life do not dissipate with death. I am finding more and more that the dynamic of a meaningful relationship continues. Sometimes we hear of instances where someone who is grieving over the loss of a loved one has an encounter of some kind with that one who has gone before. The most significant people in my life who have died are my grandmother, my father, and my mother. I name them in the order in which they departed for that unknown country. I have never had any kind of vision of any one of them appearing in any form or dream. I have been aware, however, that somehow I continue to interact with them. Their personalities and influence continue to affect my responses to situations in life. I believe that those relationships, especially close familial relationships will, for good or ill, continue to hold sway in our lives, even after that person has left this world.

There are times when I become acutely aware of my father’s continuing presence. Often my own actions bring on this awareness. I find myself standing a certain way, or positioning my body a certain way that suddenly reminds me of my father. Or, I may call to mind how my father might have reacted in a situation similar to one I may be facing. Many times I may recall the words that my mother or father said to me at one time or another.

My daughter, Elaine, now a sophomore in college, said it better than I could many years ago. When she was four years old she showed me a truth of remembering our loved ones. One day my wife, Vicki, was moving a cedar chest which had belonged to Vicki's grandmother. She commented to Elaine that her grandmother had left the chest to her when she died.

"Were you sad when your grandmother died?" Elaine asked.

"Yes, I was very sad," Vicki replied.

"Did you cry?"

"Yes, I cried a lot."

"How long did you cry?"

"I cried for days and days, "Vicki told her.

"You mean you just cried and cried and cried until you knew she was in your heart?" Elaine asked as she looked to her mother for confirmation.

I can think of no better way to summarize love, loss, grief and remembrance.



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