In the Name of God, the Kind, the Beautiful
Spoiler Alert: If you have not seen the Disney movie “Tangled,” then know that I reveal a few parts of the film.
The moment was one of the most powerful of the film “Tangled.” The King and Queen, as they do every year, release lanterns in memory of their daughter who was lost many years before. Just before he releases the lantern, the King has his head bowed down with tears streaming down his face. His wife, the Queen, had her hands on his face, trying to comfort his pain. When I watched this scene – with my two daughters sitting next to me – I could barely breathe, and the tears would not stop.
I know exactly how the King felt. I know the horrific pain that the King had in his heart, as he remembered his beloved daughter and faced the reality that she is not with him. I know how painful that is for the King, and watching the scene really made me cry, and I fought with everything I had in my being not to let my daughters realize that – inside – I was screaming in sheer agony.
The same goes with any scene in any film that depicts a parent who has lost a child: I know exactly how they feel, and it feels absolutelyy terrible. At the end of “Tangled,” when the Lost Princess is finally reunited with her parents, I actually had to cover my mouth to prevent myself from screaming out in the theater. It gave me a glimpse of the reunion I know I will have with my daughter in the hereafter. The sheer joy of seeing her again, being with her again, and hugging her again will cause me to scream out in joy, with tears streaming down my face.
But that reunion will not come now, and that is very difficult to come to grips with.
It has been almost two years since the darkest day of my life , but the pain is still there. The agony I have is still fresh; the sadness is still acute. Yes, we have happy moments. Yes, we laugh together in our family. Yes, we try to live our lives to the fullest. But, we are not the same. Our picture will always be incomplete. Our hearts will always be scarred and deformed.
For the loss of a child is a torture unlike any other. As I said before, I would not wish it on my worst enemy.