Washed ashore.
I decided to stay in the car and listen to the NPR interview with Rocco Logozzo, the Canadian uncle of Aylan Kurdi, relating his sadness and frustration at the tragedy that has befallen his family and the broken system of refugee aid that he was unable to successfully navigate. Then I walked inside the apartment and was greeted my son’s vocal, overjoyed excitement to see me home. Then I broke down sobbing in my wife’s arms.
Above is an image, taken this morning, of my own three year-old sitting at the edge of a shoreline, blissful at the waves crashing into him. Would that I, would that we all, lived in a world where this was the only combination of three year-olds and shorelines we had to experience.
I don’t have the heart to debate the politics right now. I don’t know how anybody can have the heart to debate the politics right now.
Creative Control 