Early March 2022
In his later years, whenever a disaster occurred my dad would start muttering, mostly to himself, “It’s terrible, terrible.”
Now I understand why.
I remain among the world’s fortunate residents. My nation hasn’t been invaded. Our biggest problem is people deciding it’s easier to hate people you disagree with than learning to live with them.
But look at the screen, any screen. There’s no escaping what’s happening even if it’s possible to compartmentalize it away during working hours. Tanks and infantry rolling from one nation into another. Cities, military installations, nuclear plants on fire. People burying friends and family, then returning to the fight to defend their homeland.
All set in motion by an isolated madman seeking to secure his spot in history.
Well, he’s succeeded and no one of sound mind would mistake his over-confident botched strategy, let alone his frenetic dictatorial diktats and demands, as the behavior of a smart and savvy leader.
From my privileged position, it feels like I should be doing more. And it feels like there’s nothing I can do. Maybe you feel so, too.
And maybe that’s the clue to my dad’s mutterings.