Wednesday 20 August 2008


Madrid Barajas Airport
20 August 2008


  1. Dear readers:
    Every day we listen to news reports about people who have prematurely died, victims of accidents, war, hunger, natural catastrophes, misfortunes, or other tragedies. While we listen, and may even respond emotionally, vicariously experiencing an honest sense of loss, empathizing with the victims and their loved ones, we may also feel a sense of relief that it hasn't hit home.

    When I heard the news of the horrific Madrid plane crash, I held my breath for a few long moments, anxiously listening to the news report, until it was clear which flight had been involved in the crash. Only hours earlier, one of our daughters had left for the airport, to catch a flight to Valencia. Tonight, my daughter is safe, while more than a hundred passengers lost their lives, killed in the burning fields near the runway, on that fateful plane that never really took off.

  2. It is indeed a horrific tragedy, but Merisi, I'm so relieved for your sake that your daughter is safe. I just can't imagine how you felt until you knew. Sending best thoughts.

  3. yes. I was thinking the same, as well as thining of the 10 french Soldiers killed in Afgansitan...

  4. Hilary,
    thank you. I only had to fear for a few moments for the safety of a loved one, yet still I grief for those who perished.

    you are so right, the ten soldiers in Afghanistan, such senseless murder. I struggled with the question whether I should even mention the brief moment of angst I felt yesterday, it being such a minor part of a private life which I consciously do not generally make a subject of this blog. Still, the image of the red roses in the early morning sun, which I had taken only a day earlier here in Vienna, at a moment when the morning light struggled to beat back the darkness of the night, seemed like a fitting metapher of the human condition, a reminder that even in the darkest moment, there is always light too, somewhere. At least that is what I had been thinking about when I took the picture this past Tuesday.

  5. Oh Merisi, how I feel for you. The worry about your daughter, the relief and then the sorrow for the others who died.

    My dear friend Mary's neice was involved in the gunning down of three aid workers in Afganistan last week. One of the dead workers was her best friend and they shared a flat together.

    Love and hugs Merisi.
    Lorenzo. x

  6. I heard about this today and thought of all the families who are in an absolute state of grief over this.

    I am happy for your family Merisi. It shakes us up when it comes so close to home and we can put a face to the grief.

  7. Oh, my gosh--thank goodness your daughter was all right. It is true, we tend to listen to news reports with a certain vagueness--they are sad but they don't touch our own immediate lives that often...when they hit home, they are really devastatingly tragic. It makes us pause to realize that "but for the grace of God, there go I..." I often find myself looking at the faces in newspapers, wondering how I would cope with what others do every day...touching...I'm glad you didn't have to grieve directly this time...

  8. Being the mom of a teenager daughter, I can only imagine what you must have gone through. I'm glad that all is well with your family. Tragedies like these make one stop and reflect what really is important in our lives and to value each moment we share with our loved ones. Stay safe and blessings to you and yours...

  9. Great photo evoking the sadness. Thank God your daughter is safe. Such an absolute tragedy. I much prefer trains to planes these days. xo


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