gratitude-a-thon day 929:remember when there weren’t terrorist


It’s not like I was born in the 1800’s with hoop skirts and servants, but I gotta just say that my kids are growing up in a vastly different landscape than the one I grew up in.

I get a little kooky when bombings and shootings happen and just a little obsessed with news coverage. Today, I flipped on CNN because I got like, six NYT alerts to let me know that Ahmad Khan Rahami was caught, and that it appeared he’d been responsible for the bombs in Chelsea this weekend.

For a moment, I looked at his face, which looked pained, because he apparently had been shot, but was clearly conscious. And I just thought, as a mom, or maybe just as a human being, what happened to you, why did you do this. Ok, innocent until proven guilty, but let’s say he’s guilty for the sake of this argument, he and I share some form of humanness, don’t we? And that shared bit, made me so sad for this man, because I wondered, truly want to understand, what went wrong? What is it that brought him to this point in time.

A stabbing in a Minnesota mall, a bombing at a 5K in New Jersey and a bomb that went off in NYC– another dismantled before it could, just a few blocks away, all this weekend. I worried about my career, rent, and AIDS (which was terrifying–maybe it’s this generation’s terrorism?) in my twenties. I didn’t worry about bombs or terrorist attacks, popping up at brunch or walking down the street. I couldn’t have known what I didn’t know, and I’m grateful for that. My kids aren’t so lucky. And neither are yours.

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