I read the news on Facebook yesterday. Post after post on the feed…He’s dead…They got him…They killed him…Happy posts. Hooray.
I listened to the news in the car as I drove Dustin to school. Its true. He’s dead. Finally. I should be happy. Everyone is celebrating.
I told Paul, “They got him.” He replied, “Really? Oh, okay.”
I always expected that I would be happy when this day came, it is justice after all, but I had some trouble finding my happy. Don’t misunderstand, I believe that his death was necessary. A necessary evil, I suppose.
Mostly, the news took me back to that day. That sad day. We all remember where we were. The feeling, of seeing that plane. That second plane. Going from confused to frightened at the very moment it hit the building. Thinking, We are at war now. And after the first building fell, knowing that the other one would fall as well. Those people, innocent people.
I became a CNN zombie over the next days. Watching the footage endlessly. Listening, desperate for some new bit of information. What is going to happen next? We are not safe. It happened here. I can’t believe it happened here. Feeling scared…patriotic & scared.
My oldest child doesn’t really remember a time when we were not at war. My youngest children born during the war. How long? I only hope that this latest news, this victory, this death, will help lead us to the end. To peace.