Haunted by Hostages Returning Home on the Feast Day of the Ascension

On the Feast Day of the Ascension, North Korea lets 3 prisoners leave.  They arrived at Joint Base Andrews in the earliest hours of this feast day.

I doubt that anyone even realizes that there's a feast day going on today.  After all, many Christians won't even be celebrating.

I'm struck by how little time the news devotes to their release.  Of course, it's early yet.

Still, I remember in the early 90's when some long-held Iranian hostages, most notable Terry Anderson, were released, and I spent hours watching the news, catching glimpses of them, wondering what it must be liked to be held hostage and then suddenly free.

Much of my life has been spent against the backdrop of hostages.  I think of Christmas pictures from childhood where we were all wearing silver POW bracelets.  We were supposed to wear them until our POWs were released.  I don't remember when I stopped wearing mine.

Recently I asked my mom and dad if my childhood memories of going to see POWs returning home really happened.  Indeed they did.  We went several times to Maxwell Air Force Base to cheer their return.

I devoured their stories as I found them.  Later, like the rest of the nation, I followed the Patty Hearst kidnapping.  Where could she be?  Why couldn't the authorities find her and rescue her?

And then, there was the takeover of the embassy in Iran.  I remember the regular programming interrupted for the news of the embassy under assault.  I remember my dad shaking his head and predicting, "This will be bad."

Those hostages haunt me--did they have any sense of what was going to happen?  Did they know they were in danger but stayed in their diplomatic post regardless?  I think of what I keep in my desk; I do keep stocks of items that might be important in an emergency:  dental floss, tampons, a bit of cash, water, oatmeal, pens.  But if I was held for any amount of time at all, I'm sure I'd rue the other items that never made it to my office.

I know that many released hostages have troubles after being released.  I remember at national youth assemblies of my high school years where one or more of the Iranian hostages would come to talk to us--but they often glossed over the troubles with adjusting.

Let me return to my original thoughts of this morning:  hostages released on the feast of the Ascension, the feast day that commemorates Jesus being taken up into Heaven, 40 days after Easter, when Jesus has risen from the dead.

I'm thinking of Jesus as a physical being, defeating death not once but twice.  I'm thinking of those hostages, suddenly free to go.  I'm looking at the moon which has been steadily rising as I look out of my eastward facing window.  I'm thinking of satellites like the moon and satellites like the ones that make our smart phones possible.

I'm feeling a poem taking root.