The human spirit might be more resilient than we give ourselves credit for. On the 6th August, 1945 the US Bomber, the Enola Guy, dropped the atomic bomb, “Little Boy” on Hisoshima at 8:16am Japanese time. At least 80,000 people died with the explosion, and thousands more in the aftermath from injuries and radiation. About 145,000 in Hiroshima and then another 80,000 from the second nuclear attack resulting from “Fat Boy” being dropped over Nagasaki on the 9th August.
I can count on my one hand the deaths of people close to me that had a major inpact on my life, with that of Christine almost four years ago being downright life-changing.
The human spirit is resilient. At one moment it might be freefalling, but at the next moment it deploys a life-saving parachute. Whether it is in defiance, or downright stubborness that the human spirit refuses to wither and die, the end result is a life that goes on after the pieces are collected and put together again. We are survivors in a jungle of contradictory emotions.
Last night at 11.30 a very good friend phoned me. Jerome, her nephew of 24 died in a multi-car accident. Her own brother died in a motorcycle accident about 4 years ago, and Jerome’s parents both committed suicide, about two years apart, a decade ago. Jerome has been living ever since with her dad and stepmom, and was in his last year of studies.
My recent music-trip down memorylane, and incredible sadness I feel for this family is leaving me in a bit of a overtrotten state this morning. I am going to the bush this weekend…. to rest and nurture my wounded spirit.