In the aftermath

I woke up early today.

It is a Monday and it’s unusual that I am awake at this hour. I went to bed late last night.

That’s not unusual.

Outside my window, the sun is still waking up. There are birds chirping close by. The occasional car drives by.

It has been a whole week since what we have come to know as the Sydney Siege occurred. And still, we recover from the shock, the trauma of that fateful day. The events that transpired none of us would have ever expected.

For most of us, that day started as a regular Monday. Some still coming down from the weekend high. Others still recovering. Then there were those starting to feel Monday blues anticipating the start of another work week.

And like we would expect – the buzz and the humdrum. The early morning rush. The slight chill of the morning still fading through the humidity of a Sydney summer.

And of course the pre-work coffee ritual. Some the second of their morning.

We all had expectations for that day. And whatever they were they became marred with an unspeakable evil.

And though I did not expect to feel anger that day – I did.

“How dare you?! How dare you come into our country, into our world and decide that your beliefs are more important than human life!”

The whole day, like many others, I ferociously checked my phone – even more than usual. I tried to identify the exact target for my anger. Because this was bigger than a lone gunman, he was just a part of it.

This extreme ideology of an unquenchable hatred for the Western World. The pursuance of the ultimate destruction of anything but themselves. And it is the same corrupt ideology that drives IS terrorists, those responsible for 9/11, for the London train bombings, the Canadian Parliament Hill attack.

The list goes on.

It was that same day Prime Minister Tony Abbott declared: “Australia is a peaceful, generous and open society and nothing should ever change that”. And why should we ever expect any less?

We reflect on the last week. A week when despite their best efforts our values were strengthened by the very acts that sought to destroy them.

Through the flowers and the tears we cared more, we became united in our grief, our love.

As things return to normal, this Monday – it somehow feels different. Maybe it’s because we are different. We are scarred but we are stronger.

And the anger – it still slightly lingers, that sick feeling of violation fading but present.

As for me, this morning as per usual I sip my own coffee – a home-brewed concoction. My mind is with the two souls now missing and the two fewer coffees being sipped in this world.