Life


It’s nearly 11pm and I am just getting ready for bed. I enter the bathroom and I overhear a conversation coming from my neighbour’s flat. It’s about the missing Malaysian Airlines flight. It’s a topic of interest, of distress, a conversation starter. I know they’re not meaning to be flippant but I can’t help but feel that this tragedy has turned into something of morbid fascination.

Everyday this week, someone’s bought it up. And yes, they’re sympathising and there’s a deep sense of grief, but it’s also the butt of jokes. The famous Facebook God has posted a new commandment about not losing planes and a comedic cat stares back at me asking, “you can trace our calls but you can fucking lose an aeroplane?” or words to that effect. Everyone’s talking about it. Families of those on board are going on a hunger strike, apparently, as protest. What is going on? Just life, let’s move on. The conversation my neighbours are having, has moved on.

Everyone’s lost with this missing flight. People are asking if there’s more to it, politically, that is. All I’m thinking about is, what if my husband was on that flight? What if I was on that flight? How would we cope?

It’s late. I’m tired and this tragedy has just hit me. Like so many questions in this lifetime, perhaps this is just one that is destined to remain unanswered. In a few months, do you think we’ll move on? Do you remember Madeleine McCann?

Why are we given questions that can not be answered? It’s not funny. What is it teaching us? Does ‘Karma’ have anything to do with it? Isn’t that a lovely neat answer to everything? I’m angry, if truth be told. It’s not fair. 

I suppose these are late night ramblings. Again, my post will offer no comfort or answers to anyone. It’s just a topic for a blog post.

My husband’s far away, unreachable (I’ve mentioned this before) My daughter went to sleep too late because she remembered a last-minute piece of homework, when I was so sure we had it covered, and she’s missing her dad. The left over pasta that I left out to cool on the table, WITH THE LID ON, but not tight, was covered in ants when I went to put it in the fridge and the curtain pole has fallen off from the wall in the kids’ bedroom. These are little things. They can be fixed. It still throws me in a spin though.

And I’m still left wondering, what if someone I knew was on that flight?

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