Linda Morgan-Clement
Dear College community,
As we return from the places where we scattered for spring break, I want to offer some of my reflections on our recent experiences with tragic death.
In 1996, as I was beginning to wonder what campus chaplaincy would be like, I commented to a friend, “Well, at least I think there will be fewer funerals.” Yet, within my first week on campus, one of our varsity athletes was killed in a boating accident.
Her death, and too many others across the years, have been a part of my grief; this year for Molly, Melissa and now Shiv. I know there are other deaths and losses that find their way back into our thoughts, dreams and hearts as we struggle to make sense of these senseless deaths.
While this is hard, it is also as it should be. The persons, places and pets whose lives and stories have companioned, challenged, enriched and loved us have made us who we are, and they deserve to be remembered and to leave sacred gaps in our souls.
Each time the campus faces loss, I am deeply grateful that we are a small campus where the policies and procedures, the intellectual and cultural differences are not allowed to stand in the way of our compassion for one another and warm outreach to the families of those who have died. We have a unique ability to come together, while remaining open to strangers in our times of grief. I think that this comes from our dual nature as a very real, while temporary, home for some and a multi-decade community for others. Being small allows us to pause business as usual so we can acknowledge our lives have been unalterably changed. The only way to reorient and take stock is to stop our business and look one another in the face.
Stopping to look around allows us to gain or regain perspective on how we are living our lives. Sometimes the living commit to carrying forward the passions or projects that have been left undone. Sometimes we gain insight into habits that threaten to become regrets unless we face their impact. What kind of legacy have Shiv, Melissa and Molly left for the campus community and for you personally?
As I have had the privilege to walk with members of our campus in this year of loss, I have been struck repeatedly with reflections on a campus culture that moves too quickly to cherish the connections and caring that matter most. A cornucopia of options and unending demands fracture the community and leave us anxious, stressed and regretful. Could it be that their combined legacy might be a greater determination to collectively cherish our connections?
We should claim with care the activities, relationships and pauses that we talk about when we remember those whose lives most deeply impacted us; thereby enhancing the quality of our own lives by giving them away in acts of compassion, passion and hope.