Mourning… I want to write about what we feel when someone dies. I want to share my memories which the recent disaster in Soma, where tens and hundreds of miners died, brought up in me.

I remembered the days when I had just lost my father, and putting myself in place of the loved ones of those who died, I felt deep sadness and cried. My sadness was so deep that it felt heavy as lead. I could not bear it for long and tried to forget. I tried to forget but my soul would not permit it. For the past 2 days I have been having nightmares, tossing and turning from side to side. In my dream I saw hundreds of corpses. They were coming back to life. It was impossible to sleep. I woke up covered in sweat … When my father died he was 51 years old, I was 25… My younger brother was 20, the youngest was only 15-16. It was thought that he had a sudden myocardial infarction and died unexpectedly. He dived into infinity and disappeared. He did not exist. He would not come back. We would never be able to share anything with him, request something of him. Unbelievably everything had come to an end. The news of his death was given by a prosecutor. An ice-cold announcement. Devoid of any emotion. “Your father is dead!” I nearly hit this heavy-built, blond, blue-eyed man with all my might. I remember swearing and shouting. The polis intervened. Fortunately my father was a well-respected judge. Under the surprised gaze of the prosecutor nobody touched me; in fact the police politely guided me away from the prosecutor and out of the environment. When my father’s corpse was being washed one of his friends said “come and have a look”. “You see, this death did not occur through human hand”. I remember thinking “why should that matter?” Years later I learned from the experience of others that it did matter. I said to myself: “You don’t have a father anymore! You have to work hard… You have to continue on your own in this merciless world! It is that sentence that formed the turning point in my life. A psychiatrist friend said “I lived through the same when I lost my father. In 6 months the pain gradually eases, what remains is the longing”. For days I wished the 6 months were over. My 6 months lasted exactly 20 years. According to a psychoanalyst the communication problems between me and my father and some unfinished issues played a role in this. If you ask me I would simply say I have lost my closest friend who made every problem of mine his own problem… As regards to longing and tears; if the wisest people who can accept death as something normal, who in fact have reached a prophet level, can feel sadness and cry about the longing that will be felt, then what can be more natural than crying and sadness? Especially the young children that were left behind when those mine workers withered like crocuses… That miner who asked when he was about to lie down on the stretcher “shall I take of my shoes? so as not to soil the stretcher?”… I can’t write any more, I can’t bear the burden… In short, bereavement has befallen all of us and it is impossible not to feel it… What can I say, condolences to all of us… May all our friends have long lives… At times like this one ought to be able to sympathise like the friend of my deceased father did, and one ought to be friendly and kind like those people who intervened in the incident between me and the prosecutor… When I think about it, I’d say that it is the right time to share our emotions. Was the event caused by human hand? Or was it a natural event? This is of course a very important differentiation… But I don’t want to dwell on it for too long and cause impudence in some… Just as I would not like anyone to turn into an enemy of anyone else… … In short, what I am saying is, that if the event was caused by human hand then it should be left to their conscience. And for that, one has to have a conscience. In order to prevent a repeat of such an incident, at least as much conscience as mind is needed!

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