I am on the flight from Athens to Paris,
after 5 hours sleep the previous two nights,
and I just wish for quiet.
She asks me if I was in Athens, my neighbor does.
and I want to deflect, to end, to head off….
I know that my honest answer will fail to do so.
"I was in Lesvos",
prompting an immediate and vague understanding of why I was in Greece.
And we talked, reluctantly talked…
of my time in Greece, her adult children in Paris,
"we were so scared... It could have been them."
Acknowledging that the world is seeing the best and the worst of humanity. Acknowledging that no one is quite sure of the answers,
of how to handle the events we face,
events beyond our choosing.
My mind wanders to the mass of young children who came across the waters these past few days.
Toddlers and 6 year-olds who cannot swim,
being led by parents who cannot swim,
what would bring me to this state, this point of risk with my family?
A risk I don’t begin to comprehend, one I have never faced.
I take my first steps of processing what I was a part of,
what I saw.
When in the midst of my work, I am a taskmaster.
A problem solving engineer focused on
providing the background music,
helping with the setting…
around the refugees,
but not often directly engaged with them.
Focusing on the immediate needs rather than the situation.
But now I am here,
seeing the refugees in my mind's eye more clearly than when I was in their midst.
I don't want to think about this.
I am not ready to be an ambassador when I return home.
I have no more answers than you.
Maybe my experience helps me understand better;
maybe it blinds me in return.
I made it through the conversation with the lovely Parisian,
resolved to talk and listen with empathy.
Now is the time for me to be home,
to bring this experience home with me,
to let it be a part of who I am becoming,
as we are all becoming who we will be.