Floods of Regret Triggered by Remembering Victims of Tragedies

 Saturday was the twentieth anniversary of the September 11th terrorist attacks. All day long on television, stories of that fateful day were recounted, video footage of the attacks were shown, survivors were interviewed, and family members honored their loved ones killed in the attacks. And I avoided watching it all.

I distinctly remember where I was the moment I heard about the attacks. I was busy at work, doing something that for weeks afterwards felt insignificant. It was also less than a month from my planned wedding, and I was worried about the attacks' effect on our honeymoon plans. I also remember feeling profound sadness and a sense of helplessness for months after the attacks. 

Twenty years later, I still feel a deep sadness for those who suffered horribly from the tragedy, especially for the children who grew up without a father, mother, grandfather, aunt, etc., because of the attacks. So, why would I avoid all the tributes, stories, and news coverage intended to honor the fallen? 

Momentous occasions and tragedies are both difficult to memorialize in a prison setting. Most prisoners have experienced such profound losses in their own lives, both through death and abandonment, that stirring up those deeply buried feelings is very painful. Remembering and honoring others who died tragically is important, but sometimes it's just too painful. The pain of those memories are intensified by our own losses. We have no loved ones present with us to help bear the burden of painful memories.  

For some prisoners, focusing on the pain of others' tragedies also stirs up and intensifies regret over the pain we've caused our own victims. It's difficult, I imagine, for someone who's taken another person's life and who deeply regrets it, not to feel shame and regret painfully triggered when remembering the horrific murder of others. Feeling others' pain is an important part of cultivating empathy, but some pain is too overwhelming to sit in, especially for a day-long marathon of memorials. 

Some prisoners might actually respond to tragedies like 9/11's attacks by comparing their own crimes to those of the terrorists. It's an easy way to minimize our own brokenness. It doesn't even have to be a national tragedy. It could be a story on the evening news. One might not have to feel quite so bad about themselves when they compare their crimes to the horrendous crimes some people commit. But comparing tragedies is a quick way to forget that all crime is a tragedy. Deep down, most prisoners know this, so it's just easier to avoid focusing on tragedies at all.  

Our nation rightly remembers and honors victims of national tragedies. Regionally, we also remember and memorialize victims of highly publicized local tragedies. But as a nation, we too often forget to honor and memorialize the victims of every day crime. I'm grateful that the victim's advocate center in my county has a public memorial to victims of crime. That's the absolutely least we can do. But it's not enough. If we want to honor those who have suffered from the tragedy of crime, we must start by treating them with more respect in the judical process. Instead of the State usurping the offense, victims must have more voice in the process. Finalization of a trial or plea agreement also does not finalize anything for those who have suffered as a victim of crime. That's just the end of the beginning. 

As a nation, we need to do better about walking alongside those who have suffered because of crime. We need to do better to empower victims not forget them. I want to honor those who have suffered from national tragedies. But I also want to honor those whose lives were harmed because of my bad choices. Every day of my life is a dedication to them. Every difficult choice I make that addresses brokenness in me is made as a commitment to do better. Every investment I make in my intellectual, emotional, and spiritual development I make as a memorial to those who deserved better from me. 

I don't expect I'll ever stop feeling the pain of deep regret. But some day, perhaps, I'll be able to sit in the pain of others' tragedies without feeling a flood of self-condemnation and shame for the harm I've also caused.