“Only connect” by Sherman Yellen

How does one speak of the unspeakable, the wanton killing of the old, and the young, when one has no good answers, only questions? How can human beings, given the gift of love, even more important than the Promethean gift of fire, turn on others in hate? One can only look inside oneself — knowing you will come up short and that there is no answer that covers all the questions about humans when they disrespect the value of another’s life.

This issue of life against death came to me during my recent illness. The world might say to me, you are an old guy, you have known many of life’s pleasures, a great love, and the joy of children, grandchildren, and animal companions — isn’t it time to close the book? Well, not for me. I love life in most of its forms. If I have any regrets it is that my final days will be spent in a stone city rather than in the forest, the parks, and the sandy beaches that I loved. But even given that small disappointment, I remain hungry for life — I am so grateful upon rising that I have another day. And when I am visited by a son or a grandchild, the years slip away and, without any effort, I enter their world, with all its promise, and remember my own, with all its very human happiness and occasional despair.

Yes, these last years have been filled with losses. Looking at the photographs of my wedding 70 years ago, I see that only my wife Joan and I have survived the years. I sorely miss the friends and family who shared so much experience with me — the good and the bad. We are blessed with memory but memory cannot replace a handshake, a kiss, or a living hug.

None of this may appear to connect to the horrors that have been experienced in Israel or in Ukraine. But they do. The life force that one old guy may revere is a force that always prevails. It does not nullify the grief of survivors. Or ease their pain. But we do go on.

When my mother was killed in the street by an out-of-control auto while taking food to some sick, elderly friend, I doubted that I would ever recover fully. Yet, in time, the tragedy of her death retreated into the larger memory of her generous and loving life. Memories are no justification for random death, but they are what we have, and we end by cherishing them.

I can offer no words of comfort to those who have lost or will lose a loved one or a family in the Middle Eastern massacres. I can only recommend what worked for me: after the loss — after the death — one must commit oneself to what matters most for mankind — honoring every human life. And the place to start is by honoring one’s own, seeing in one’s humanity a connection to the beauty of that oak tree — the majestic beauty of the world we share — and the honor we owe to all human life that keeps this magnificent world moving towards the greater good for all.

The English novelist E.M. Forster wrote “Only connect!” and those two simple words held the key to a good if not always happy life. Sorry, I have no answers for the acts of terror and hatred — other than spending a few minutes sitting by a tree and accepting the wonder of our shared lives. And supporting that right to life, that most precious of rights, to all who do not seek to harm others. Blessings on you, my friends. May we always cherish the lives of others.