As the events yesterday morning in Brussels continue to weigh heavy on my mind, I can’t help but think of the plane that my four children and I will be boarding ourselves later this evening. While I pack, I listen to the television recaps and hear blips of conversation and reports from eye witnesses. “Sheer destruction.” “Slim chance.” “People standing in line at Starbucks.”
I freeze at that last, seemingly irrelevant detail, and I pause as I scan the TV screen. A litany of photos continue to rotate, showing real-time views of the terrorist attack that killed over 30 and wounded hundreds more. And all while people were treating themselves to a cup of coffee.
I think to myself, It could have been any of us.