Here is what Karen did not say at Ariel’s unveiling:
A year has passed. This has been a year of reflection and yearning, but most signifigantly, of dissolving defenses. The protective layers are wearing away. The very impulse that propelled me to speak at Ariel’s funeral is now countered by an opposing force. For when I eulogize, I tend to objectify and distance Ariel, and I do not want to lose the immediacy and intimacy that are finally returning. Yes, the dissolution of my armor increases the pain. But at least I feel the restoration of the integrity of my relationship to Ariel as a mother, rather than a eulogist.
The realization of the horror of Ariel’s death has taken a visceral form. I know that I have touched the target synapse, the final feeling, when my body literally convulses with shock. When I shudder, I know I have reached the true emotion. I do not want to cushion that connection because as painful as it is, at least I know it is real. I do not want to relate to Ariel by talking about his values, his incredible knowledge and humility. I want to remain in my central role as his mother. I do not want to express a mother’s love through memorials and tributes. Now that I have finally connected with what feels “true” I will not speak, for the tremors of pain are wordless. The primal sighs of keening defy language. The loss is ineffable.