Thursday, September 03, 2015
I've written about it before, nearly two years ago and ten tears ago. It unleashes frightening emotions.
The image and headline flashed before me in my Facebook feed, posted by an old cycling friend. I tried to ignore it, simply for fear of what I'd feel. My fears were realized. It's right there, I'm sorry, they can not be unseen, but you've probably seen them already.
I wept (I was not alone).
The dead children, washed up in the shore at a Turkish resort, called to me. Their eternally frozen faces struck at me deeply - as a father of two beautiful boys.
What was it?
My inaction in the face of this travesty? The circumstances that drove their parents' desperate attempt to flee in search of a better life? What of the uncounted thousands of children expiring among us, in our world of plenty? What of the children abused right here in my adopted state?
All this feeling only when I drop my guard and let the horror of what's happening creep into my consciousness amid the blah, blah, blah of daily life. I imagine these children barely afloat, clutching with all their tiny might to anything to keep them breathing and alive. Can I even contemplate for a moment that feeling? Then, the last hopeless gasp before all passes into darkness - NO!
My God! The blessings that my children are! The blessing of my family, of the fact that I was born where I was born.
Can anyone gaze on these images and not be moved?
What is our moral responsibility as a member of this global community to act? This is simply not right.
I pray, this godless man prays.
Now, I look for ways to do something - this will not be easy.