41 people died and 239 were wounded in an Istanbul airport attack on Tues., June 28 according to a report by the Guardian. Turkish officials say that the Islamic State (ISIS) was responsible for the suicide bombing.

There is the perspective the media takes, and then there is the way that you feel about the events in the media. As an American with Turkish relatives, I know that the places I’ve frequented throughout my youth are no longer safe.

The first time that I went to Istanbul I must have been in kindergarten. My mom and I went to her sister’s house in Istanbul for many summers. I loved going to the palaces and the history. I also loved seeing my crazy Turkish relatives who seem to have come out of the movie “My Big, Fat Greek Wedding.”

Every summer or two, we would go sightseeing and swimming. My aunt would take me to the bazaars and teach me how to barter in what can only be described as the most chaotic and lively atmosphere.

We used to fly in from the Istanbul Ataturk Airport where the attacks occurred.

Now I know these places are not as safe as they used to be.

To be fair, terrorism is not new in this part of the world. The Kurdistan Workers’ Party (PKK) has been active since the 1970s, supposedly targeting government officials for decades. Is it because I was naïve as a child, or because I always returned to the States after a few months of vacation?

But now it looks as I won’t be returning to the States for a while because of my circumstances. My family has decided to return to Turkey because my grandma needs a caregiver. So what do we do? Do we live with fear, or do we ignore it?

I see the fear in the way that my aunt clicks her tongue in disapproval at the deaths on the evening news. I see the fear in the way that my uncle puffs on his cigarette, as if he thinks that it will offer him some relief from the tension. I see fear in the way that my grandma prays that the terrorists will be hurt, and that the victims’ families get justice.

But there are times in between. These are the times that matter.

The people of Turkey still go to work, ride the bus and go to the market. They go swimming, watch movies and go to the cafes. They talk, they laugh, and they dance. Aren’t people afraid? Yes, but we somehow put it aside. I’m not sure if we go on because life goes on, or do we become desensitized?

And I’m realizing that these are the moments that matter, the moments that happen between the stories covered in the news. The world is a scary place, and at some time you have to change the narrative of your life. Because the victims of terrorism will never have that chance.