Television news makes me want to hurl our Sanyo to the curb, so to keep our Netflix connection, and Cara’s Tuesday nights with the cast of Glee intact, I don’t listen to the chirping “At 11:00!” crowd. Instead, I look forward to seeing Time Magazine in the mailbox. But it’s the end of the semester crunch for this aging student; I didn’t open last week’s issue until this afternoon.
I usually start at the back, reading humorist Joel Stein first: Time’s version of David Sedaris. (He always puts me in an upbeat frame of mind.) Then I flip the pages before settling into something else. Today, a set of haunting images held my interest. Syrian refugees, their physical beauty obvious, their anguish captured by photographer Peter Hapak, will stay with me for a long time.
“There is a woman, my neighbor, who forgot one of her sons. He is still in Syria. We left in such a hurry. Can you imagine? She forgot one of her children.” –Salwa, as told to Rania Abouzeid
No. I cannot imagine the terror that inspired a heartbreak so deep and permanent as that.