This past week seems to have been one of tears more than anything else: tears of grief and tears of jubilation. But such is the human condition and ’twas ever thus in the tragicomedy of life, with its twin poles of sorrow and happiness.
On Saturday morning, we awoke to the news of the death of Stabroek News Editor-in-Chief and founder, David de Caires, who was cremated in Barbados on Wednesday and whose memorial service takes place today at the Cathedral of the Immaculate Conception, appropriately in the ward of Stabroek, the centre of the old Dutch capital, after which this newspaper is of course named.
On Saturday evening, we saw the so-called Stanford Superstars − once and future West Indies cricketers in all but name − thrash England in the Stanford 20/20 game in Antigua, to capture the richest purse in team sport and become instant millionaires. The young, hitherto unknown Grenadian, André Fletcher, wept in disbelief, joy, gratitude to God and, perhaps, relief, at having accomplished something that, until recently, would have been beyond his and all our wildest dreams. Many of his team-mates, their families and supporters also cried unashamedly. We can only speculate as to the bitter tears that must have been shed in the England dressing room.
On Sunday, as many Guyanese enjoyed a day at the South Dakota Circuit, motor racing fans were also following the Brazilian Grand Prix at Interlagos. In a most dramatic finish, Britain’s Lewis Hamilton swept past the struggling German, Timo Glock, just before the final corner of the last lap, for fifth position and the points necessary to beat the race winner, Brazilian Felipe Massa, by one point in the overall standings to clinch the Formula One World Championship. There were tears all around at Interlagos.
Lewis Hamilton’s triumph transcended the excruciating tension of the finale to the F1 year. For in becoming the youngest ever F1 World Champion, Mr Hamilton, the product of a mixed race marriage, with a Grenadian grandfather, also broke one of the last remaining colour bars in international sport.
And this for many was a sign of things to come in another sphere of human endeavour, a harbinger for the breaking of the ultimate racial barrier in America, in a different kind of race – the epic run by Barack Obama, the African American with the white mother, for the most powerful job in the world, the presidency of the United States of America.
However, the script is never perfect. On Monday morning, on the day before the election, Mr Obama’s 86-year-old grandmother, Madelyn Dunham, died quietly, a few days after she cast an absentee ballot for her grandson, but before she could see him elected the 44th and first African American President of the United States. What more poignant moment could there be in an election already marked by incredible emotion? Indeed, the photograph of the teary-eyed Mr Obama at one of his last pre-electoral appearances could well become one of the iconic pictures of this campaign.
Then on Tuesday night, the floodgates were opened, as Mr Obama, in a transformational moment for America and perhaps the world, won the race for the White House. The images of the famous – Jesse Jackson and Oprah Winfrey, among others – and the not-so-famous, ordinary folks, black and white, rich and poor, old and young, shedding copious tears of jubilation, pride and wonder at the victory of the inspirational agent of change were, to all but the most cynical of observers, moving beyond description.
Those who remembered the brutalization of a whole race, the heroism of Rosa Parks, the uplifting message and martyrdom of Martin Luther King, the moral force of the civil rights movement, and the struggle and sacrifice of millions, wept in memory of the past, just as they wept in recognition of the moment and they wept in hope for the future.
As Ian McDonald has pointed out, his great friend, David de Caires, would have loved to have been able to bear witness to this historic occasion. He too would have glowed in the light of the candle of hope that Mr Obama has lit after the eight awful years of the Bush administration, even as he would have continued to yearn for a transformational light in Guyana after too many years of despair and darkness.
Let us not forget either that this has been a week of tears in Guyana and across the world, for many others, often only recognized by the media in their moments of searing loss in the cruellest of circumstances.
And yet, tears can be transformational. They may never wash away all the pain. But as we walk together through this vale of tears that is life, we can find comfort, strength and joy in all that is ennobling, inspiring and uplifting, especially in those who, in their own way, little or great, reach out and touch us and make the world a better place for their passing.
Thus we dry our tears and soldier on.
