Huh?

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Utah, United States
One night while tucking Abby into bed she sweetly chimed, "good night! Sleep tight! Don't let the bed bites bug you!" I like her thinking. Sometimes life bites. The trick is to not let it bug you.

Monday, May 02, 2011

Osama bin nice knowin' ya... but not really.

It took 'em almost 10 years, but better late than never.

The morning of September 11th I woke and turned on the news. That is not a part of my regular routine, but I switched it on before getting out of bed that day. Immediately, the terrible images of tower Number 1 came on the screen. Soon thereafter I saw the second plane hit tower Number 2. 5-year-old Wes came walking in and climbed into bed with me. Maybe I should have sheltered him from the news, but after explaining that "airplanes crashed into those buildings," we sat mesmerized together.

I called my parents. They were watching, too. Scott called me from work. They were watching; nobody was working. A couple of hours later Scott came home. We hung our flag. We left the news on all day. That day, and over the next several months, we agonized with those searching for loved ones, cried with the firefighters and cheered with the Ground Zero search teams when President Bush shook his fist at Osama. We watched as friends, loved ones and neighbors left to go to war. Our new favorite song became the Angry American by Toby Keith.

We had our own revenge. We went on with life, Andrew was born the following year. We flew across the Atlantic. We continued to fly our flag.

Wes has always been a sober kid, but I have no way of knowing how much witnessing 9/11 as a kid impacted him. He's a patriotic kid, though, and often talks about a possible future in the Air Force. Andrew is a child with a lot of turbulence in him. I only hope it is how he was born to be, and not due to 9 months of gestating with a stressed-out, "threat level orange" mom. Andrew is a bright, creative light that wasn't extinguished by some sucker in a cave.

Oh yeah, about that. I hope Osama's cave-dwelling comrades are aware that he was knocked off in a mansion, chillin' on a pillow-top mattress.

Last night as Scott and I sat in bed watching the President's speech, a 14-year-old Wes came walking in. We were able to give him the news. Good news, this time. 

 Today, the world is heaving sighs of relief with a different American president. Our lives went on. The good guys won. Today, I'm flying my flag again.

2 comments:

slcscott said...

Well said. I have nothing to add.

Firefighter/Paramedic said...

I hope Osama arrived on the other side and had a sudden sinking feeling in his gut...the feeling that he was wrong about everything.

Say hi to Hussein for me.