Conflict within.

"What's this about Osama being dead?" hubby asked as he played a facebook game. "huh?" was my reply. "It's all over Facebook" he said. No, I didn't jump onto Facebook to see. I ran to the old standby. The television. Seems many of my peers did the same.

I turned on NBC, and yes, admittedly, was already smiling simply at seeing the Donald get trumped right off the Telly. But then I watched as the President, respectfully, and somberly, announced the events of the day. Osama was dead. And at the hands of the Americans. I didn't need it spelled out. Our President had done what was necessary, and as many contend, should have been done years ago. And my first reaction was one of deep contentment. Like someone had waved a wand and made all the bad stuff go away. Finally this man had gotten what he deserved. My first thought? It's about time.

But as I watched the growing reaction, the jubilant crowds in the street, the singing and dancing and chanting... it started to become disturbing. I couldn't quite shake the feeling that this type of over the top celebrating was more of a flashback than a patriotic reaction.

When the towers fell, elements of the Arab world reacted with the same jubilation. They weren't the overwhelming majority, in fact they were mostly fundamental Islamists and members of the growing terror movement. And it made us sick to our stomachs that they could celebrate the death of so many innocent lives. Even one, more than a few were heard to remark, was not deserving of such callous disregard. My daughters were young then, but both enormously impacted by seeing images of celebration around the world, when their own was crumbling. And yet, Sunday night, crowds gathered across America to sing, laugh, and dance with joy. Just as Al Qaeda and its followers did a decade ago.

My daughter asked me the next day "how can people celebrate someone's death like that...even if it is Bin Laden?" And it was a legitimate question. Moreover it was a worthy one. She nailed the conflict right there. We all share that sense of justice being served. And relief that he is no longer walking among us, a threat to our homes and families. And yet, to celebrate a death is simply wrong on way too many levels.

I can't reconcile my utter shock at the celebrations on 9/11 with our own reaction to final justice. It was a dangerous, brave thing they did on Sunday and our incredible Special Forces deserve enormous thanks. As does our National Security Team. The President. And even, yes, Former President Bush. Who made a pledge so many years ago that we would find him and bring justice. President Obama pledged to carry that forward. And quietly and methodically did so. With resounding success.

So I am reflective. I have a sense of peace. I am glad this terrible excuse of a human being is gone. We are all safer for it. The world is, in fact, a better place without him. And somewhere deep inside I was doing cartwheels. But I will not overtly celebrate his death, nor the manner in which he died. It just feels wrong to behave in a manner I find abhorrent in others. And right now I am so proud of my own child for facing the ethical dilemma head on and making the right decision. It's not an easy one. So let us celebrate our ability to move onward. The fact that justice was served. The fact that good triumphed over evil. All worthy reasons to celebrate.

And if you feel the need to have an all out bash, then lets pop the cork and celebrate the biggest most colossal monumental incredible Bump that Donald Trump will ever experience.

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