Wednesday, August 17, 2011

A Parable On Grief


A relative and her family was in deep mourning. A well loved member of their home was suddenly gone. What compounded everyone's grief was the way the beloved died. A son, for sometime, believed there was foul play and resorted to surfing the internet on ways to get back at the one he thought caused the anguish their family were then going through. Everyone was inconsolable.

A few days after the incident, we were there listening to all of them speak. Everyone has a special story to tell. It was obvious how much they cherished the presence of the deceased. Everyone wept while recalling the good times.

But before I get any further, it was not a person that died. It was their pet rabbit. And the suspect? Well, everyone believed the neighbor's cat that did it. It was, however, a theory I find deeply suspicious and was eventually quashed after hearing the complete story.

Photo Credit: Larry D. Moore

Bunny Rabbit was everybody's favorite, far more than the family's black Labrador. Bunny Rabbit entered the family after a successful school project. Everyone has grown fond of him, even Carmella herself. And as a consequence, here was one overly pampered bunny.

There was something about his cuddly nature that comforts. It must be the “Awww” factor, the one I hear from Carmella every time she sees something cute and cuddly. And even if Bunny Rabbit was getting bigger each passing day and has become messy, he still occupies a space inside the family's abode where everyone can see him from any point in the house. In his short life he never experienced spending the night outdoors.

It is no wonder then that everyone blamed the neighbor's cat for the demise of their favorite pet. The anger was so deep that someone started to Google means to get rid this supposed menace once and for all. Everyone wanted to point a finger at the reason for their pain. Everyone wanted to pass the blame.

The truth is, Bunny Rabbit died because someone decided to bring him out for a dousing of free vitamin A, inside a cage, in the middle of summer and then forgetting about the poor creature. So there it was, with no additional water and no additional food under the blazing sun the whole day. Bunny Rabbit died, not because the neighbor's cat did him in but due to heatstroke.

Still everybody insisted on blaming the neighbor's cat. The good thing was no one organized a posse to pursue the innocent suspect. It still freely roams the neighborhood to this day.

Even better, the anger and suspicion died soon after hearing my opinion on the matter. But I never heard anyone blaming themselves for their oversight.

Isn't this typical? Isn't it true that most of the time, we'd rather blame others for all the sad things happening to us than taking full responsibility for our actions? Isn't it true we'd rather accuse someone for our misfortune even if it was a consequence of our decision to remain miserable instead of choosing action and seek a better path? Isn't it true we would rather blame the causes of our addictions even if it was ourselves who willfully allowed our passions get the better of us?

Maybe it's time to stop blaming the neighbor's cat.