I began writing about home, what defines it, what it is and what it might be. For weeks I have been staring down my past, how I arrived where I am. I stared so hard that I overlooked the present for a while. The present ended my query.
People all over the globe face devastation and uncertainty; stark, horrifying statistics filling headlines. While doing perfunctory tasks, I tried to imagine my family; trudging along, minuscule elements in a flood of humanity, swept away with the debris of war.
Masses of people endure hardships, fleeing death or worse, uncertain where they’ll be when the sun sets. What is worse, those necessitating their flight hide among them.
I am thankful to be home – today. I am not comfortable, not for myself, not for my family or friends, and certainly not for more than 60 million souls. God help us all.