Comment: ‘Don’t think I will ever forget that day’

It's been 10 years since the London terror attacks. FILE

OUT of the blue this week I got a message from my former partner, saying it was 10 years to the day since the London bombings.

“Don’t think I will ever forget that day,” he wrote.

I replied how I would sure never forget the long walk home that afternoon or the fear getting back on the Tube the next morning.

“And not being able to get hold of you for two hours was scary,” he added.

I didn’t remember that he couldn’t reach me, to be honest I don’t know if I ever realised that, but then much of that day is a blur. I know he was working in west London, a walk from our flat, so I knew he wasn’t on a Tube or a bus in the city. I had been, although by the time the bombs went off I was safely at work.

We were just two of thousands of Kiwis living in London on July 7, 2005.

For thousands more parents and family members back here, hearing the news of the London bombs must have made their hearts drop.

As it must have for others when 9/11 happened, or the Boxing Day tsunami happened, or the Christchurch earthquake happened.

Immediately, in situations like that, all we want to hear is that our loved ones weren’t on that train, at that beach, or in that collapsed building.

It doesn’t matter how unlikely it is they were, or how long the odds were - until we hear they are safe, there’s a sick feeling in the pit of your stomach. It’s the uncertainty, the not knowing, the mind racing to the worst.

My parents were lucky. My Ireland-based brother heard the news just as it was breaking - at the point they were speculating as to a blast from a gas leak rather than a terrorist attack - and called me to check I was okay. I had no idea what he was talking about, I hadn’t even heard the news.

We let my parents know I was fine before the full horror of it unfolded. I don’t remember whether he did, or I did.

It was a panicked day as emails - with the mobile phone network overloaded - flew between all my London friends as we each all checked in.

I can’t even begin to imagine what it was like in New Zealand when the Christchurch quake hit. In a small country, most people would have been going through that heart-sinking moment. I was still in London, asleep. When I got to work I was still oblivious to the seriousness.

Until I watched a video on a New Zealand news site of a reporter walking through the devastated streets.

I had to leave and walk outside, taking deep breaths on the fire escape as the tears came. I didn’t know anyone in Christchurch but this was happening in my country, and this was a bad, bad thing.

This week’s London terror anniversary and the words from the friend I shared it with, were a reminder that sometimes we forget the important stuff and sweat the small stuff too much. Unfortunately, it can take a bomb to jolt things into perspective.

This week, in honour of the victims of 7/7, and the parents who didn’t have the luxury of hearing the words ‘I’m okay mum’ I am going to be thankful for the people in my life for whom, at the mere thought of losing them, my heart would sink to the ground.

My former partner, who shared that memory and gave me the jolt I needed, included.