A Time for Cheering?

Most of this country is celebrating, or at least cheering, the death of Osama Bin Laden. I won't lie and say I didn't cheer when I heard the news but then I have to admit that I felt strange. I mean it's just not normal to cheer the end of someone's life. I made myself feel a bit better by pointing out who it was, that he was a monster responsible for thousands of life's, and I felt vindicated. However, as time has gone on, I've felt that maybe I don't really have a right to cheer this death. I mean thankfully I didn't lose anyone, I didn't know anyone who was killed, I was lucky. However part deux, I vividly remember the absolute terror of not knowing if Chicago was going to be attacked next and whether or not the world would ever be a safe enough place for my then just turning 3 year old son. I did not let my son out of my arms that entire day, not even for a moment, he even went to the bathroom with me. That man caused me such fear and terror that all I could do was lay on the sofa and cry and shake and hold my son. So maybe I have a little bit of a right to cheer at least just the once for that.

I remember that day, as does everyone else, like it just happened. I remember sleeping late, we were late sleepers as my then husband worked second shift and our son always had to stay up to see daddy and daddy wanted a few moments to hang with his boy. Me and my son got up around 10:30am, I remember that my phone had been ringing off the hook but the answering machine's volume was turned down so I couldn't hear anything upstairs. I remember going downstairs with my toddler and turning our local PBS station on for him so he could be entertained whilst i made him his breakfast. Of course we know what was on tv at this time, nothing but news. I remember thinking the silly thought that who cares about Arnold Schwartsenegger's new film but it didn't take long for me to realise it wasn't a new film. It was reality, America's new reality. No longer were we to be innocent of terrorism, no longer were we to be innocent of what the real world can bring to your doorstep and I've had friends in other countries tell me that the main thing they felt for us was sorrow that our innocence had been taken from us. I remember calling my mother, asking her WHAT THE FUCK IS GOING ON!??? but she didn't have much more information as I had. I wanted my husband to come home immediately but he couldn't and I remember that the city was evacuated. Chicago was a veritable ghost town. I remember all air planed were grounded, except for military jets so everytime I heard one I knew what it was and why it was there, sounding capable of keeping us safe. Everything was cancelled for a week, my husband didn't work for the rest of the week but got paid for it, and finally it started to sink in, what had happened. Seeing those towers come down over and over and over again pounded reality into your brain until you just couldn't take it any longer. I remember that there was a 2 year old girl flying with her dad on the flight that the passengers over-took and crashed in Pennsylvania and how it broke my heart that she'd lived only as long as my precious child, not nearly long enough. I was uncertain that my son had a future, that any of our children had a future or that the future of our world was safe. I remember not feeling that the President made us any safer or that his speech made me feel anything other than disgust. All he could do was chatter on and on like a dime-store cowboy, however I still think on that day, when he was in front of those children, he did as best as he could when he was told what happened. A lot of people thought he should have jumped up as if his arse were on fire, but in front of 5 year olds he held his cool and didn't traumatise them and for that he got points from me. Those were the only points he ever got from me of course. :o) I remember reaching out to my online friends and how they helped me get through the ensuing days, how we helped each other and calmed each other's fears. I'm still friends with those women.

So here it is, nearly exactly 10 years later and the man responsible for all of that has been killed and I still have to admit I have some problem cheering his death. I guess I'll have to deal with it within myself, give myself a break because I am only human. I may not have known anybody that was killed but a part of every single American was killed on that day. We grieved as a country. We were all effected directly be it by fear, uncertainty or anger. I watched some of the victims today on tv of that day and they seemed relieved that the monster is gone. That is enough for me. I've been disappointed in a man who I've admired and thought the world of for 30 years today as he twittered that he feels we shouldn't feel the need to celebrate the monster's death but what does he know about it? Did he know anyone who was killed? 'Cos seriously if he did? Then he has a right to spout off about how HE feels but he still has no right to tell other people that they're acting naive when they celebrate. Nobody has a right to belittle someone's right to heal as they see fit. Yesterday brought closure, an end, to the on-going pain of the victims. I saw on tv today the children who were in utero or just born on or after 9-11 who grew up without a father because he was killed, it's so hard to realise that they're 9 years old now, soon to be turning 10.

::sigh:: So time moves again. The end of a story has arrived, occured and is the past now. Buried at sea so the sharks can eat him and crap him out so he can then lay on the bottom of the ocean. Perfect if you ask me, very much as he deserves.