Monday, September 19, 2011

A fond farewell to a little Crystal

This blog is humming with activity lately, and I appreciate everyone's input. But today, rather than address any of the questions being asked, I need to write about a heart-break that one of us is experiencing--the death of her seven year old daughter in a plane crash.

Yesterday morning I was getting ready to go to my version of church (the Center for Spiritual Living) when I thought I'd check my emails. A close friend who reads and participates in my blog, had sent me an email with a subject line that pretty much said her life was over. A little dramatic, I thought to myself, until I opened the email and read that her estranged husband and her seven year-old daughter had died in a plane crash that morning. She had received a call at 3:30 am with the news.

Oh, my God! I forgot about the church and called her, hoping she would answer the phone. She did. All I could say was "I'm so sorry," and cry. She cried with me. I never met the little girl, but she had touched my heart in many ways. Last year, she wrote one of my posts on miracles (October 21, 2010.) She was a miracle walking, and I called her the little Crystal, as she clearly was one of the wise crystal children who came to this world as an enlightened little being. I loved hearing her remarks. Once, when her older brother asked her, "What do you want to be when you grow up?" she looked at him as if he was stupid and replied, "What do you mean? I am." Who needs to sit with gurus when you have a child like that?

I hoped that I would meet her one day, and imagined the kind of woman she would grow up to be. Stronger and more beautiful than her mother (and that's saying a lot) and wiser than her dad. " You are wise," my friend asked me on the phone yesterday. "Why do you think this happened?" I have no idea. I won't even try to figure this out nor will I offer any spiritual platitudes. All I can over my friend is the space for her to have her sorrow, and the knowledge that I love her and am here for her. I can't possibly understand her pain, though I can cry along with her.

A friend told me that in some villages, at times like this, the entire tribe gets together and wails along with the mother. This blog, in a way, is one of her tribes. So please feel free to share your love with my friend who is in pain.

I love you, my sister, and I am here for you.


Deb said...

Tell me about her…

Popi said...

Despina,thank you.

Thank you for offering support and compassion.I know Nina appreciates the fact that you even dedicated a blog to her.She was my little crystal, but she actually belonged to the world. What a little miracle she was!! She loved you through me, I want you to know. She could not wait to meet you.

I do not want anybody lamenting with me. My wailing and pain is enough.

How did Mary watch her Son being crusified and suffer in front of her? I can not even visit the crash site.

Deb, Nina was a very beautiful, extraordinarily beautiful child, with long,, blond wavy, always messy hair, big emerald green eyes and porcelain skin. She was the image of her "Sun King" father of hers, who was known for his physical perfection.

Nina had those precious looks, but God sent her down here with so many other gifts, I need way too much space to elaborate. Despina knows. She was always smiling, loved everybody and everything and if she did not, she never complained. She lived a very cloistered life, because of who her father was and she took it. Her gifts are unexplainable, so was her clumsiness.

I can not talk about her more, because I have not reached the "acceptance" stage yet. I want to wake up from this nightmare, board one of her dad's planes and just go, wherever they happen to be. I want to hug her, smell her hair, listen to her non-stop talking and at the end, after she took most of what she wanted to tell me out of her system, fall asleep on my lap with her spoiled cat Ling-Ling next to her.

I want to see and admire her elegant fencing skills among other things, while she was breaking everything in her path, running constantly all over the place. "oops another one bites the dust," was her favorite expresion, looking back at destroyed Chinese Dynasty, priceless vases and such.

I miss her, I want her back. I am aware her loving spirit is floating, may be even close to me, but I want my beautiful, flesh and blood child. I want her back. I want our crystal back.

I do not want to be a hypocrite, I want her dad back too. I loved him a lot despite our differences. The world became a big black hole to me now without his "burning" radiance and the warmth, love and generosity of a little angel.

I have encountered agony and pain the last 4 years, because of my health.

This is the real thing.It is unbearable. I want my child back.

Deb said...

Thank you for the word picture. Reckless abandon…medusa hair…and such happiness, even in memory she is a teacher. I can’t know what her absence means to you. I’m just a stranger touched by your grief. But even if there is no meaning to be found in what has happened, I pray her resilience and courage helps you to find your way through this unimaginable loss.

Shandi said...

I can't imagine the grief you must be
feeling for such a loss.

When tragedy strikes, our perspective
shifts radically, as our focus is
drawn to our wounded hearts.

Material desires are tossed to the side. Romantic needs take their place behind the veil of tears.

She was an angel, given to you for
such a short time. Her messages
and love live on in you and us,
who've only glimpsed her wisdom.

My mother's heart goes out to you.