Triumphant, Proud

You know me. Any opportunity to talk to my kids about some huge topic that's not entirely relevant. Oh yes, I did. I told my kids that Osama Bin Laden was assassinated.

I like to be my kids' first glance into some subjects. I want to put that first lens on, even if their experiences color it different later on. There's a lot being said about Bin Laden's assassination that doesn't entirely please me, that this is something to celebrate and rejoice, that America has won, that the war on terror is over. Now, don't get me wrong, I snickered at this and that; I'm willing to admit that I'm hypocritical (although "ambivalent" might make me sound better), but death never the ideal in my worldview.

When I first heard the news after I dropped the kids off at daycare, I was stunned with a side of relief and apprehension. There was indeed relief inside me at the news of a man's death. I was immediately concerned about what the fallout will be: more attacks, more bombs, more Al Qaeda people who will step up to avenge the murder of Bin Laden. I could not feel joyful, successful, triumphant; a man (a very bad man) died. I thought of the people who executed the mission, their bravery, their possible ambivalence. I thought of the families of the people on that mission, whether they knew (almost certainly not), how they would feel to know. I thought of the people in that city in Pakistan (perhaps best expressed by the man who unwittingly live-blogged the attack: "there goes the neighborhood"), drawing a parallel with the people who harbored Eric Rudolph in the woods in western North Carolina, where I spent a summer. I wondered who knew, who approved, who kept their knowledge quiet for fear of being targeted themselves.

President Obama's voice broke into my thoughts, and I wondered about the whole burial at sea thing, being the skeptic I am. The Wall Street Journal helped me with that.

After thinking a lot about this today, I brought it up with Sanna on the way home, first testing the waters with, "Did anyone at school mention a Bad Guy who died?" No one had, and she wanted to know more about it. Thus began my explanation. It was peppered with questions and comments by her, all the questions and comments were reasonable and thoughtful. I gave her a chance to bail on the conversation more than once, and when she asked to listen to music instead, we did.

I told her that there was a Bad Guy named Mr. Bin Laden who had hurt a LOT of people. In fact, he had killed a lot of people, and there were good guys who wanted to stop him. (This is when she asked how they found him, but she interrupted herself before I had to explain what the CIA is.) The good guys would have taken him to jail, but he was such a bad guy and so dangerous that they couldn't take him to jail without getting hurt, so they had to shoot him, and he died. When she suggested that it was good that he was dead because he couldn't be a bad guy anymore, I told her that no, it's sad when anyone dies. Mr. Bin Laden had a mom and a dad, he's someone's dad, he had lots of brothers and sisters, aunts and uncles, cousins, and friends. He had people who loved him, and it's very sad to them.

We talked about different people believing different things about God, that Mr. Bin Laden thought everyone should think about God like he did. I said that Brooke and I believe that everyone has their own relationship with God and everyone can believe about God in every different way and still be good neighbors and good friends. We talked about Bad Guys and Good Guys and people who are both, that most people are a little bit of both, but what matters is that you do your best to be kind and loving.

We talked about Pakistan, which is even farther away than South Dakota. We looked at it on the globe later on.

And later tonight, I followed up: "I want to make sure you know that not everyone who believes about God the way Mr. Bin Laden does is a Bad Guy. Almost everyone who believes about God like he does is good and kind."

"Mom. I know. I already knew that."