On July 5th Son Two and his gal left the US and flew to Lisbon, then on to Barcelona, Pamplona, back to Barcelona and on to Paris. France. To coincide with the Bastille Day festivities. When I heard of their plan, I inwardly freaked out about them being in a big, already targeted, European city for a national celebration where likely every third person in the crowd was a terrorist. It is a testament to my recent therapy sessions that I kept my fears to myself and didn't completely bum out their plans by shouting out my own worries and warnings. I smiled and said, "How cool! That will be a wonderful experience!" Then I put it all out of my mind, as best I could.
I watched for the daily Facebook "photo dump" as they made their way from destination to destination. Sightseeing in Lisbon, going to a bull fight (I was so happy my son hated the bloody spectacle and left after the first bull was killed), watching (not participating) in the running of the bulls, visiting museums in Barcelona, eating and drinking and socializing with locals as well as Seattle area friends who were also in Europe at the same time, and then walking the canal in Paris, watching the Bastille Day parade, and taking in the fireworks at the Eiffel Tower.
Then, on Facebook I saw there had been a Bastille Day terrorist attack in France. My heart skipped a few beats, my breath caught in my throat. Almost simultaneously my phone rang. One of my BFFs called to see if I'd heard from my son. Another texted. Frantically looking at Facebook posts I realized in short order the attack was not in Paris. It was in Nice. 800 miles from Paris. Still....the horror of it, the madness. My son messaged me right away to assure me they were safe. Whew!
They flew out the next morning, as scheduled, from Paris to London then on to the U.S. I followed their route and breathed a bit easier when I knew they were over U.S. airspace and then on the ground and home. But that is a false sense of security isn't it? Our own gun violence can mean innocents are killed here as easily as anywhere. What has happened to our sense of safety in a world gone a bit mad?
I know this is really nothing new. History shows we have always been a violent race, that violence manifesting in a myriad of ways. Now we have smart phones that broadcast the news and videos almost instantly, and then over and over and over again, as if the same event keeps happening. It's all crazy and I can't dwell on it.
This moment, this moment all is well. I am sitting on my back deck, watching the approaching dusk, feeling a chill in the air, smelling salmon baking in the oven, hearing Hub pad around the house. All is well. Until it isn't. The world is a little mad. But so it has always been. Good people of compassion and love and optimism keep the balance. May each of us be one of those people. May our children always be safe.
At least, that's the view from here...©
Photo credit to my son!
