All my bags are packed
I'm ready to go
Well, no I’m not. I was supposed to, though.
I’ve had a work trip planned for the last six weeks or so. I rushed to get my passport renewed. I worked hard to complete a couple of projects needed for the meetings and trainings that were to occur. I did laundry, bought new shoes (because what trip cannot occur without those?) and made GORP. I downloaded videos to watch on the flight. I packed my suitcase.
What was supposed to be a quiet evening at home Friday night, before taking the red-eye the next day to the UK, instead became a night glued to television and internet news reports and sending emails to my manager who was already there. What have you heard? Is it safe?
As the horror unfolded in Paris, Himself thought it best I didn’t go. I still wanted to try to make it, mostly for selfish reasons. I was to have a free afternoon on Sunday and had located the Catholic church closest to the hotel. The Mass I was going to attend was in Polish, in England. How universal! Afterwards I was going to go wander an old cathedral and grounds and then peruse a used bookstore for Chesterton, Belloc, Lewis, and Fletcher.
Saturday morning came and the breadth of the carnage in Paris was more apparent. Along with that came threats elsewhere. The travel advisories were being raised quickly to the highest levels in the UK. Emails from the company’s CEO and President were coming quickly. And it was decided that if you weren’t in the air, you weren’t going to be.
That quickly changed my plans and my coworkers' plans for the week.
I wandered the house trying to figure out what to do. For the last few weeks, I knew what I was going to be doing yesterday and today and the rest of this week. And now? I felt very unsettled.
All will be back to normal in a week when I was supposed to be back home. For me.
But what about all those people who were there? The ones that won’t come home, ever. Or the ones injured and maimed. And those that, though not physically harmed, witnessed it, escaped it, lived it. They woke today with their lives changed. The husband or wife who was supposed to be next to them, isn’t. A daughter or son, sister or brother, gone or hurt. Their plans for tomorrow, next week, next month or the years that follow are suddenly changed.
I can handle being “unsettled” for a day or a week. I thank the Good Lord that, for right now, that’s all it is.
Agnus Dei,
quitollis peccata mundi: miserere nobis.
Agnus Dei,
quitollis peccata mundi: miserere nobis.
Agnus Dei,
quitollis peccata mundi: dona nobis pacem.
AMDG