My husband and I learned about the attacks just as we arrived at LAX for our trip to France. “Alyssa, there have been some shootings in Paris,” Arnaud said as he looked up from his phone with disbelief.
After we got through security, we waited for our flight and watched the terrible news unfurl. Three shootings. 60 dead. More injured. Our row got called so we boarded and kept refreshing our phones for more news until the flight attendant cut us off.
A brief stop at Heathrow and the numbers were all higher. I scrolled through my phone and was almost in tears. We were both shocked and scared and sad and mad all at the same time. Once we landed in Nice, things were worse and the death toll rung in just past 100.
This is the third time I’ve been in a country when it has suffered a terrorist attack (first 9/11 and then Madrid in 2004) and I can’t say that it has gotten easier. It’s a confusing time punctuated with deep sorrow and I have a million words yet can’t say anything.
“No country does life on earth better than the French,” said an anonymous commenter in response to an article in the New York Times. I (obviously) couldn’t agree more.
May we mourn those who were ripped from this world in an act of hate and honor them by pursuing a life full of love. Liberté, égalité, fraternité, and above all peace.