My sympathy with Paris

On Friday night last as the terror attack struck Paris, I was inside The Arts Theatre in London's West End with my 17 year old son. We had travelled to London to see the musical American Idiot for the said boy's forthcoming 18th birthday.
Having spent the day on Friday doing all the sites of London we ventured into Leicester Square at approximately 7pm. We spent almost an hour just wandering around watching folk walk by and taking in all the illuminated sights. The boy had never been to London and was thoroughly enjoying this night time experience in the city centre. We laughed and we joked as we people-watched, and then we made our way to the theatre.
As I purchased a glass of fine wine for myself and apple juice for himself (yes he really is teetotal), we then made our way downstairs to the theatre for the show. We settled ourselves into the allocated seats and spent the next two hours, singing, humming, and just enjoying the sheer brilliance that was on the London stage. Huge Green Day fans, we both rocked to the beat.
At no time did I feel concerned or worried or otherwise. I was just very happy and content with the boy at this, his first West End experience. The theatre was rather dark and dreary but the stage was alight with musical talent. I don't normally like dark and dreary environments but I still felt very much at ease here.
When the two hours were up my boy and I left the theatre feeling very much elated with what we just witnessed. We sauntered along the London streets oblivious to what had happened in Paris. We even went underground and took the 'Tube' back to Russel Square. And then we stopped at Sub-Way, as the boy was hungry.
When we eventually arrived back at our hotel room, we settled into our cosy twin beds and logged onto our facebook. I sat bolt upright as soon as I saw the words 'terror attack' on Paris. As I read a number of pieces, I learned that 12 people had been killed that night. I was aghast and decided to put the phone down as this was spoiling the night I had just experienced. As we were both shattered it didn't take long for sleep to welcome us.
By 7am I was crying on my bed. I had awoken early and logged on to see just what had happened the previous night. As the events unfolded before my very eyes in words, I began to put myself in the position of those poor people. As I sat in a London theatre next to my son, these people had stood/sat next to each other in a similar theatre in Paris. Tears ran down my face as I tried to imagine what these people must have felt on realising  what was happening around them. This could so easily have been us that previous night.
But it wasn't us, it was 100+ people in Paris. My tears were getting stronger as I realised just how horrific the terror was. I dressed and went walking the streets of London. I felt a common bond with everyone I met....we were all thinking the same thing....we were all thinking on Paris.
My son and I left London on Saturday afternoon. We talked about Paris for the rest of the day. We tried to imagine how the Parisian people were feeling. We could only be certain of how we were feeling. Sombre and sad. There was nothing that we could do, and to say we felt helpless was an understatement. But we had to journey on and make our trip home.
Paris has been on our mind ever since. As a Mum I can only send my sincerest condolences to the people of Paris. As a Mum I can only be thankful that my son is alive and well. I can only be thankful that my three sons are alive and well.
I guess the moral of my story is, treasure your children. None of us know what tomorow will bring. Paris didn't!

GMcC