In the news this morning Ellen and I were watching the arrival of the two journalists that were detained and tried in North Korea in March of this year. We had been discussing how this kind of thing works. One needs to hand it to Bill Clinton for his euphoric charisma that exudes from his person during these tense times. Yet what really hit me when viewing the scene on TV was the mother of a young child hugging her young daughter. It wasn’t a hug of greeting. It was not the perfunctory hug given to children when returning from school. It appeared to be a hug of desperation. An act of completion. A return to being whole again.
Four months is not a long time in an adults mind. I remember my freshman year in high school. The thought of nine weeks of Algerbra almost made my knees weak and trembling. A whole semester(which is close to four months) almost made me sick. Then there were the months of seperation during my first marriage. It really wasn’t a long time yet it still seems an interminable amount of time. I spent many seasons in construction camps working 7 days a week for four months. After I married Ellen I often was away from her and the kids for four months or more.
Where am I going with this? The distinct difference between my separation and those of the journalist on TV is choice. True she did make a choice to be involved with news and investigations. It is true that she went to an area of the world where one is constantly in danger. I did similar things many many times!!!! I have to live with those separations. As does she. But the moment that choice changes to no choice or complete lack of control it changes. Never once have I ever been in a situation that I did not have the freedom for complete access to movements, to my residence, to my friends, or to my family until…..
Funny how an instant changes the way you think. It was recently aboard ship while we were on our latest cruise. Kellen had asked to go to the kid camp provided by the tour ship. All I needed to do was show up at 12 o’clock to pick him up. I am red faced as I type this… As it happens I was on the Lido deck enjoying the company of my wife and new friends aboard ship. We had an hour and a half to wake up and to discuss with these friends the plan for our upcoming day at sea. Everyone was fun. The conversation was constant. Needless to say I was having a very good time. At 12:26 PM I realized that I had failed to pick up Kellen from the kid camp. I flew out of the chairs with my feet barely touching the sun scorched floors of the ship. Inside the ship to the starboard door of the camp. Locked!! No lights on. Panic stricken I run to port side of the ship and another access to the kid camp. Door was locked their as well. Where is my son? The minute loss of control in this instance made my heart beat fast and I was having a hard time breathing. PANIC!!!
How can four minutes of panic be mitigated? How can four months of involuntary detention be mitigated? I will tell you how. A hug. After the second door was locked I was running around like a chicken with his head cut off. Should I go back to the room? Is he at one of the buffet lines? Could he have ventured off into the pool area? How do I tell my wife that I had lost my son? Standing in front of the elevators doors these thoughts rushed over me. Thankfully, the elevator was slow. I was antsy so I returned to the portside door of the kid camp on Lido deck. It was there that I spied my son, smiling and waving … happily greeting a panic stricken but relieved parent. Four miutes is a long time. The thoughts that must have run through the journalists mind during those four months must be horrendous. My four minutes practically produced a heart attack.
I remember the hug from my son. I doubt that he will think it memorable. I remember the feeling of helplessness. I also remember the complete giving of a hug by my son. When I saw the hug by the mother and her child after four months in a prison with no control I was relieved. To then return to the one that is loved is a gift that should not ever be experienced. If one does get to have that experience they should consider themselves very lucky to have the control back. Seeing that mother hug her daughter as she did, gave me a commonality to the journalists…however fleeting. ..of a moment in time that we both should never have experienced but are better people because of it.
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