So this morning I sat on my couch, my stomach a ball of lead. All over the television ran the same information: London had been bombed. Not once, but four different times. London.
I almost started crying because London is where my husband and I spent part of our honeymoon. I have such fond memories of it, and have always wished to return to it.
Now, because of what's happened, I'm rethinking that wish-and it really angers me. I shouldn't have to rethink visiting a country that holds nothing but pleasant memories for me because some extremists who....okay, I'm not going to go there.
Instead I'm going to focus on sending good thoughts and prayers and compassion "across the pond". I'm going to wish peace for those people and the families that are now suffering with the loss of a loved one. I'm going to pray that the officials over there don't lose hope and drive and remain safe in their lines of duty. I'm going to beg the power(s) that be that the people who did this awful thing will be caught and somehow, we will find a way to stop the madness that has overtaken them. I'm going to keep hoping that someday we won't have to worry about if and how we fly, if and when we ride public transit, if and why someone else has lost a loved one due to mad fervor.
I'm going to keep hoping that these silent shadows that creep upon us will once again retreat into the darkness.