Monday, February 7, 2011

Silence

So, a week ago today, my friend Karina was traveling with her aunt in Iquitos, a city in the Peruvian jungle (on the Amazon River, actually - the biggest city in the world inaccessible by road, if you're interested). But she received some tragic news. Last Monday, at about 5:30 pm, her grandfather passed away after being hit by a mototaxi that morning. A mototaxi is the Peruvian equivalent of a rickshaw - basically a motorcycle pulling a covered, 3-seated cart. He was brought from Casa Grande, the town where he lived, into Trujillo (abou 45 minutes-1 hour away), but they couldn't get him stabilized and he passed away before the could operate.

I can't imagine getting that phone call about your grandfather when you're hundreds of miles away and, because of flight/bus schedules and tickets, can't get there for 36 hours. On top of all this, Karina's grandparents essentially raised her, so this man was more like her father than her grandfather. She got to Trujillo Wednesday morning, with barely enough time to see her family and begin to process things before the velorio (viewing) and entierro (burial). And it was probably the most intense funeral I've ever been to. Several family members, including Karina, were distraught, and it was really difficult to see someone such a close friend in that much pain.

I just wanted to take it away, to share it, to know what to say or do to make it better. And I realized that I can't. I mean, I can be there for her - and don't get me wrong, I know what a huge gift that can be - but I can't heal her hurt. And that was a helpless, humbling place to be. But I think it helped me realize better that there is only One who can. And I'll be praying for and walking with her through that process.

Since last Wednesday, Karina has been better. She's been gracious to express sincere thanks for friendship and support, she hasn't let herself be swallowed by sorrow, she has allowed herself to talk about her grandfather - the kind of man he was, how he made her laugh, memories with him, confusion about the grieving process, openness about how she feels, honesty about questions as well as about her faith, hope, and the opportunity this tragedy could offer. I'm impressed. I can't imagine what it would be like to lose someone like that, and it will take her a long time to get through it. But I'm thankful for the person she is and for the chance to be here with her now.