Nine Years, Seven Months, Twenty Days

Remember that morning. It started with so much promise, the mild weather and shining sun was like an invitation to bask in the last gasp of summer. Who would ever have expected the world would end on such a gorgeous day?

A lot has happened since that morning in September.

I didn't think we would ever see Osama Bin Laden killed or captured, I totally expected him to die of natural causes, protected as he was by our enemies and allies alike. I guess I didn't expect it to matter to me so much if it did happen. I, like many, thought this would be little more than symbolic victory, too little and too late, because so many will just rush in to fill the void he would leave, and we have made so many enemies over the years.

But he is dead. Finally. He was killed by American forces and his body is ours to do with what we choose. I hope it is fed to dogs.

I am crying tears of grief for all those who died for us to get to this point. I am crying tears of joy because he deserved to die. I am crying tears of relief that a big chunk of this story is over. Most of all, I am crying for the world we lost nearly a decade ago and all the people who died that day.

This death won't bring all that we lost back. It probably won't make our wars in Iraq or Afghanistan end sooner. It certainly won't make people who hate us our friends. We will still have to take our shoes off and submit to TSA gropings at airports. It probably is just a symbolic victory. But that doesn't mean it isn't important. Because, when all is said and done, symbols matter.


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