Over the past couple of weeks, the normal everyday distractions of life have taken over and any thoughts of our trip were resigned to the back burner.
Until yesterday that is – when a Sky news reporter announced that a passenger plane had crashed at Kathmandu airport. Suddenly our trip was brought into stark focus.
I couldn’t help but watch the news footage. It wasn’t the pictures of the twisted, smouldering wreckage or the stories of the poor souls that had perished that caught my attention – it was the faces of the rescue and airport staff as they scurried to manage an impossible situation.
I couldn’t help but think that in some 48 hours, our fate will be in their hands. A sobering but wholly unhelpful thought.
In the circumstances, I was thrilled to arrive home tonight to find two beautiful St. Christopher medals sitting on the kitchen table (Thanks Marie & Mai).
Shiny & New they are the embodiment of a higher power and while we will be glad of the comfort and reassurance they provide as we make our journey – the wreckage we pass as we arrive in Kathmandu will reminded us that we are all part of a greater plan.
Flight BS211 – Ar dheis Dé go raibh a n-anamacha.
To all of us – Bí Curamach.