Osama bin Laden is dead. I am actively awaiting the President’s address of the nation. But while I’m pleased with this news, as pleased as any person who remembers that day–that Tuesday when the world stopped spinning, the beautiful autumn day of September 11th, 2001 that became so very very ugly–could possibly be, I’m not celebrating here.
One of my relatives is a Marine. He just lost a good friend who was fighting in this unending war. While I am glad that the U.S. has finally accomplished one of its goals over there in the Middle East–I am, I am very glad that this man is no longer plaguing this earth–I don’t suddenly think this justifies all the lives we’ve lost in the last nearly 9 years…and all the lives we’ve taken. I do not at all. Finding and killing this one man was not worth the civilian deaths we’ve caused, or the thousands of young American lives lost. The sadness and sympathy I feel for my cousin’s pain far outweighs any happiness I get from this one success.
That’s all I have to say.