Stop the World

i got a call from my friend Serene this evening. i rarely get to speak to her, mainly because i hate talking on the phone. but tonight, i was reading at a book launch, i'd just done my bit, and the phone rang, and i picked up.

she burst into tears the minute she said Hello, and told me that the Singaporean woman who had been held hostage in Mumbai was her husband's colleague...and she was dead. her husband had just identified her body. 

i was at Klee in Portsdown Road, and it was a beautiful evening (did anyone else notice?). there were already stars in the sky, yet the sun hadn't completely set. everyone had been complaining about how hot it was, how humid and sticky. there was a pomelo tree, with some fruit, and everyone had taken turns to joke about how they were going to steal them. Portsdown Road has some really gorgeous flora and fauna.

and still, a woman whom we were assured was safe, is dead.

with my heart sinking a bit lower than in the morning, i messaged my husband Swee Chong to come home immediately. he is now in Hyderabad, and had arrived there an hour or 2 after Mumbai was attacked. he messaged that the next flight out was Sunday morning, he may as well stick to his schedule and return Monday morning. he had a direct flight, don't worry, he won't pass through Mumbai at all, he loved me.

my husband is there because the WHO arranged for him to give a lecture on cervical cancer, his sub-specialty. he's not American or British, he's not in Mumbai or Afghanistan or Iraq or Israel or even Bangkok. he's certainly not near any Somalian pirates. but he's not safe at home with me. what that poor woman's husband is thinking and feeling now...i pray for him, i can only do that.

my definition of home has suddenly changed, because the world is no longer what i had grown up believing it was. my children will not know the sense of freedom and quiet that i had, just as i don't know the upheaval in my parents' young lives. i suddenly feel unable to keep my promise to protect my girls from harm, to be there every time they're hurt, or even to just be there. it's difficult because i don't know what the world will do next.

i can only remind myself daily of what i must be, and do, to continue relationships i have with those around me, and to continue to remember them in prayer, and to tell each one, often, that i care for them. 

thank you for starting this blog. there may not be hundreds of entries every day, but reading each one, i remember that we all lead special individual lives, and we press on, not because we're women (though we do that quite well...), or "survivors", but because we're people who know that we can do so much more, and better, and to make a difference in others' lives.

and let's spare a quiet minute for that husband who's been left behind.