)(( hannah mello ))(

a sea away...

Over the last weeks and a sea away, tradgedies have overwhelmed families, individuals, and a nation responding. My heart has been slung right and left and up and down as I have read too few words about the sadnesses-- in international newspapers and online sources.

Hours away, impending tradgedy is breathing her terror on hearts. I can't handle being a sea away and feeling this helpless ache.

My father's brother-- poet, guitar-master, songwriter, teacher-- and his bride had to evacuate their newly established Mississippi home and returned not long ago-- amazed to find it with floor and roof. Thousands of stories don't have the same tone. Abrupt life shaking. Instantaneous devastation. The sadnesses of Ireland are simiarly confronting-- shut out and made silent by a world of apathy. I care. I don't sit a sea away oblivious.

What can a heart do in moments like these? I feel like my own breath is luxury.

I met an English couple on the Korinthos seashore sleeping on a bench in the sun. When they awoke, we spoke. The husband had a C.S. Lewis voice and kind eyes-- the woman, a floppy hat, and the face of a teacher. They shared their life story wrapped up in a world of WW2-- a different whirl of devastation-- but a time of homes lost and life wrung dry.

I met an Albanian boy at a Cappuccino cafe who invited me out the next afternoon for a beachside walk. When we talked that next day, sharing stories about our homelands (I am 1/4 Albanian too by the way :)...) and dreams and challenges-- he told me that at 14, he held the hand of his 4 year old brother and had braved the border Mountains for freedom's sake. They didn't make it. They were captured and returned. Their second attempt was successful. They fled to the south of Greece to wait a few months to make their home in Korinthos. Now, eight years later, he sat on that beachside rock beside me-- eyes to the mountians, and wishing that he could build a great home in his land in peace. He turned to face me with sadness in his eyes.

This idea of home intersected by tradgedy awakens deep humanity within me. A deep hunger for a home unshaken by winds brought on my human mouths or hands -- or natural fury. Here in this Internet Cafe in Greece, I sit without a resolving chord. The minor tension fills this head of mine (musical terms. musical terms).

posted by )(( hannah mello ))( @ 6:57 AM