Saturday, August 29, 2009
Apples and Oranges.
I had above conversation with a friend a day before Ramadhan. But did you see the last line?
Harsh, right. That’s how much I love food. No two puddings are ever the same. Each one is special. Pity him. He was just being concern as a friend. And as usual my mood swings like nobody's business.
That last line, however, came from personal experience. Well, I didn’t have a miscarriage. My cousin sister did. She had finally conceived after seven years of trying. Things were shaky from the start. It got especially complicated by the fourth month. And as she was undergoing surgery to save the pregnancy, the foetus slipped right out.
Seven years. She had wanted this so bad. The devastation… I had never seen her so cut and broken before.
The last thing she would have wanted to hear at that moment was that she “could try again”.
Sometimes we can’t help it. We blurt things out. We feel pressured to say something comforting. But please, do stop to think for a moment in such a delicate situation.
In the same way, when someone tells you of their recent or ongoing misfortune, that’s probably the worst time for you to relate your “similar” experience. Because while the general term for it - miscarriage, death of an immediate family member, accident - might be the same, one’s personal experience is different from another is different from another is different from another (intentionally repeated).
We may relate our own stories with the best of intentions. Hoping that it will console the person. To know that someone experienced something similar but made it through. But think about it. Really think. How is your apple going to make me feel better that I lost my orange?