Though I am afraid of many things – camel crickets, roller coasters, etc – I only remember feeling that deep, in-your-gut type of fear a few times in my life.
Staring down a store robber who was holding a gun pointed at my head. Living with an abuser whose switch flipping I could never predict. And September 11th, when I watched the horror unfold on a television at my place of work knowing my children were 10 miles away in school.
That fear on September 11th was worse than the gun-wielding robber or the fist-wielding spouse.
I wanted – no, I needed – my children with me that day. Thinking rationally, I know I couldn’t have done anything to keep them safe if the terror continued, but I wasn’t thinking rationally. I just wanted us all in the same place, all holding hands, all knowing our world had forever changed.
I sincerely hope that out of the horror that was September 11th a safer world has emerged. Even though we complain about TSA, backpack checks at theme parks, and a constant guard presence in our work places, I don’t mind those things if I can feel a little safer.
But today, one day after the killing of Osama Bin Laden, the little spark of fear is back in my chest. Will we see retribution? Will our security measures hold? Will it be worse before it is better?
I know that I will keep very close tabs on my children. I know that I will have a plan to bring us all together should another terror arise. No less today than 10 years ago I want my family together to ride out any storms.
And to quote one of my favorite bloggers, Sheri, “I am not celebrating. I am not mourning, but I am not celebrating.”
