The death of Osama bin Laden takes me right back to 2001.
My son was under three months old, my daughter just a year and a half.
As the buildings fell, as New York City suffered, as panic and fear flooded the country, worries of all sorts of chemical and biological attack permeated our consciousness.
I felt exceptionally vulnerable. I could deal with myself — I could accept harm or injury or death to myself. But these two little people, the children I was responsible for, one who couldn't walk or talk or even sit up, the other a toddler, how would I protect them if war came home to the United States? The fear loomed large in my mind, in so many of our minds.
But the anxiety of those years has long since faded; the children are much grown. And now bin Laden is dead.
What does his death mean? Is it symbolic? Are we safer for it? Are our children safer for it?