Bombs Drop

My father has lived through hell and hell fire. Really the man has some intense stories of growing up in war torn countries. My late grandma did too, I’ve heard them all I think. When I was younger he’d tell me all nonchalant like, and I was too young to even know how crazy they were back then, but looking back they’re mind blowing.

One story that really stuck with me is one I’ve heard from both my father and grandma. It was one early morning my grandma was home alone with my dad and his older sister when all of the sudden bombs started dropping. Imagine that, bombs on your home. Explosions you can see and feel. How surreal would that be, like one of those stupid war movies but real.

According to the story my quick thinking grandma rushed her two young children into the bathtub and lay over them. She used her body to sheild them. Bombs blasting, rubble falling, tears leaving their wet salty trails and they stayed like this for a long time. Their world literally falling apart around them.

This really happens to many people, it is happening right now. I’m sure you’ve seen that picture circulating the internet, newspapers, magazines, and TV programs. The emotionless Syrian child covered in blood and debris. Every time I see it my eyes water and my heart grows heavy, and yes that’s the point of it but that doesn’t make it less horrendous. If we don’t get it together real soon we’ll all know exactly what that kid is going through. It’s so important we put love before this ridiculous hate, this dropping bombs business can’t go on.

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