I answer a text from my brother Jared, who is aggravated because a news outlet wanted to get a "family member" on for a reaction to the news. His text says that "all these people celebrating is not going to make me feel any different, it does not bring any closure or justice for me." I am still trying to figure out my response. It feels weird; like I am right back where I was on September 11.  Next, a text from my sister-in-law, Jeremy's wife. I tell her that I'm having trouble wrapping my head around the news. What does this mean? Bin Laden is dead and people are celebrating. She says it best. For her, celebration and September 11 do not go together.  I check in with my mother. She does not want me to worry about her. She says she is trying to be rational. Trying to be rational? The entire past decade has been irrational, but my strong and sensible mom is telling me she is trying to be rational.  It's time to wake my 14-year-old for school. He was 4 when his Uncle Jeremy was killed. I remember he ran away from my brother's outdoor memorial service because it was too sad to stay and listen. I ask him if he wants to watch the news before he leaves for school. He gets out of bed quicker than usual. He's quiet. The only thing he says is that bin Laden was a coward, when he hears reports that bin Laden hid behind a woman as a shield.  Now it's time to wake my 7-year-old. He was named after my brother. Born two years after September 11, he knows about that day only from what we tell him and what he hears from other children. It is history to him. He knows his Uncle Jeremy through stories. My brother is more like a superhero to him than an uncle.  He is best friends with his cousin, Jeremy's daughter, and I've heard them talk about the bad guys who crashed the planes. He knows that Osama bin Laden was the man responsible. I have to tell him bin Laden is dead. He says, "Mom, does that mean the wars are over?"
It is 5 a.m. Do I put the TV on? I am drawn to watch the news the way I was those days nearly 10 years ago. I have this eerie sense of unease. I look at my phone and see two voice mails, many texts