Back home, not even a week after leaving home. If that doesn't bring home the unpredictability of life, I don't know what does.
In a still shell-shocked Netherlands, a national day of mourning for the nearly 200 Dutch citizens aboard Malaysia Airlines Flight 17.
A week ago today, they were no doubt busy packing for a trip the next day to Kuala Lumpur, Malaysia.
A welcome vacation for many. For one mom and son, who would later snap a selfie on that flight, a welcome respite as well.
A week ago, most of them had heard about rumblings in Ukraine, but even in Europe, it probably seemed a world away. Let them fight. Let us pack.
A week ago today, all we knew about Malaysian Airlines was that it was missing a plane and everyone on that plane.
A week ago today, all we knew about Vladimir Putin was that he seemed to have the upper hand in everything.
A week ago today, they were dithering in Europe over how to deal with his messes. Who would think a week later, they'd be dithering over how to deal with far bigger messes?
A week ago today, things were getting nasty at Israel's border, but no one foresaw hundreds losing their lives at that border.
A week ago today, rebel groups lobbed missiles at military jets, but we never figured passenger jets.
A week ago today, there were warnings about flying higher over a region about which most seemed oblivious, but little thought about banning travel outright to another region a week ago, we'd have thought ridiculous.
A week ago today, Dutch college kids just finished with their studies, many planning for family reunions. Now their families are planning for way too many of their funerals.
A week ago today, their summer was just starting. Who knew 24 hours later everything would be ending.
Such is life. Like a snapshot -- snapped then shut; over and done.
And those of us still alive just watch and wonder about last week and this week and almost too afraid to even think about next week.