It is a truism to acknowledge that there are people who saw last Christmas but will not be around this Christmas. It happens in the circle of life, but every empty chair at the Christmas table is a hole in the heart for their loved ones. Christmas is a time for remembering those that have passed away in the year gone by.
It is a sadness, but there can be comfort in knowing that a loved one had a ‘good death’, a peaceful passing after a long and fruitful life, or went to their heavenly departure in good Grace and were fortunate enough to receive the Last Rites. There are many consolations as well as sadness in the empty chair.
But there are other empty chairs that do not offer consolation. The scourge of suicide is one of those. A homily by Fr Mark Quinn of Tuam went viral earlier in the year when he asked people to take more care about how they talk about suicide.
Between 450 and 500 people die by suicide every year in Ireland, 80% of whom are younger or middle-aged men. Appealing to people to be careful how they use words, Fr Quinn said words such as “he is in a better place now” did not send the right message to people who might be struggling.
Criticised
While he criticised the Government for speaking a lot about the importance of mental health while pushing policies that “tell us clearly that not all life is valued the same, that not all life is equal, that life can be simply ended if we wish to do so”, in CBM Ireland, our work on mental health in Kenya and Zimbabwe has benefitted from the support of Irish Aid, the government’s overseas assistance arm.
Is there anything harder for a parent than when the natural order is turned on its head and a child departs this earth before they do?”
The work is hard. There are no guarantees, and it is especially challenging when there are very limited resources and support systems. But we see the same pattern of mental health issues that are particularly affecting men. In the places CBM Ireland works, it is often assumed that the big problems to be dealt with are poverty, hunger, education. They are ever-present – but the impact of hopelessness, lack of opportunity, and a sense of despair, accompany these issues. When a man feels like he is not able to fulfil his role, there are very few places for him to turn to. Less even than in Ireland.
There are other empty chairs at Christmas that are even more heart-breaking. Christmas can be the worst time for a family who have lost a child during the year. Is there anything harder for a parent than when the natural order is turned on its head and a child departs this earth before they do? There are no words to adequately express the empty, aching hole a child leaves in the months and years that follow that loss. Is it any wonder then, that at some point, so many of us ask God “Why?” It is one of the biggest challenges to our faith.
While our work to address the mental health issues in Kenya and Zimbabwe offer no easy solutions, resourcing supports, creating awareness and reducing stigma are some of the many small steps that are needed to offer hope when despair sets in. In our eye-health programme in Madagascar, we see an opportunity to give some families the chance to avoid the pain of an empty space at the Christmas table through a new – but simple – piece of equipment.
Everywhere we work, we encounter the pain and heartbreak of parents who have suffered the loss of a beloved child. Hundreds, thousands, of children every year are dying from preventable deaths across the world. These deaths are simply because of the circumstances of their birth – where they are born. Sometimes I pause to think about that and how fortunate I am that my daughter is born in a country, for all its flaws, offers her access to the type of healthcare that reduces the risk of a preventable death to almost zero.
Eye-health
Eye-health is something that is less talked about because children are dying unknown to anyone except their families just because of an absence of simple eye-screening programmes across the continent. Last year, we screened over 50,000 children in one region in Madagascar alone. We found six with an eye-cancer called retinoblastoma. If our screening programme had not taken place all six of those children would have certainly lost their sight and become blind for the rest of their lives. Most probably their eye-cancer would have spread and they would not have lived to see Christmas this year.
Having a simple eye-test can be a sliding doors moment for a family. It can be the difference between an empty chair at the Christmas table or a dinner filled with the laughter a toddler brings”
Screening of course, is only the first step but it has to happen so the disease is found and treatment can be offered. We are using a new low-cost piece of equipment called the ARCLIGHT that is solar powered, hardy, and easy to use so that community healthworkers can identify eye problems with just basic training. This can be life-changing for a child who might otherwise have died of unknown causes.
Having a simple eye-test can be a sliding doors moment for a family. It can be the difference between an empty chair at the Christmas table or a dinner filled with the laughter and joy that a toddler brings. A sliding door moment.
When I was in Madagascar earlier this year, I met Sombiniaina, a little girl who had just started her treatment for eye-cancer. In June, the road ahead was long and hard. Her parents were afraid. Obviously. But they also had hope. Her sliding door moment was the five seconds it took for a midwife to screen her eyes with an ARCLIGHT. Sombiniaina was going to get the treatment she needed.
Only a few weeks before Christmas, Sombiniaina got the all-clear. Her cancer was gone. She was cured. She had to lose her eye to kill the cancer but the sight in her other eye was saved. She is alive for Christmas this year.
Not every family has the same happy ending. Of the six children we found with eye-cancer, it was too late to save two of them. But at least they were given a fighting chance. They got treatment but the cancer was too far along. Retinoblastoma, like all cancers, is cruel.
Madagascar
Madagascar has a population of 30 million. There are 4 million children under-5 in Madagascar that we want to bring into our screening programme. There are 1 million children born every year that we want to benefit from screening programmes. This will not happen overnight but we are in it for the long haul.
Meeting Sombiniaina earlier this year was a gift because it strengthened my resolve. Her story, and the testimony from her mother about the waves of fear and then of hope that her diagnosis and treatment, hammered home to me the real, human, impact of our work – and the potential of our work for hundreds of other families in Madagascar.
In his final Christmas homily, Pope Francis said “This is the night when the door of hope has opened wide on the world; this is the night when God says to each one: There is hope for you too!”. Our aim is that Christmas dinners will be an celebration of hope for hundreds of families in Madagascar next year, just like they are for Sombiniaina’s this year, instead of occasions of sadness and loss.
