You know it’s an unusual day when your middle schoolers come 
				home early and build a cardboard bomb shelter on your front 
				lawn. That’s what happened at my house when Mark and Benji 
				arrived home on that awful September day, 10 years ago. Like 
				many children, they saw the disaster at school.
				 
				Like every other American, my husband and I watched in horror 
				as we experienced the full hatred of terrorists for our country. 
				On that morning, we’d sent our kids off to school in one world 
				and welcomed them home to an entirely different one.
				 
				As much as we attempt to protect our children from disasters 
				like the 9/11 terrorist attacks, tornados, hurricanes, flooding, 
				raging fires or earthquakes, we discover that we are pretty 
				powerless.
				 
				I have a personal theory that the helicopter parenting 
				phenomenon was born on 9/11. We hover over our children 
				attempting to make their lives smooth because we failed so 
				miserably to protect them from disasters such as the Twin Towers 
				disintegrating into dust.
				 
				Since my Mark and Benji have been born, they’ve seen:
				
					- January 28, 1986 –  the Challenger Shuttle explode, with 
					vivacious Christy McAuliffe on board.
 
					- April 19, 1995, the Alfred P. Murrah Federal Building in 
					Oklahoma City attacked, leaving 168 dead.
 
					- September 11, 2001 – Terrorists hijack airliners 
					crashing them into the Twin Towers, the   Pentagon and rural 
					Pennsylvania, killing over 3,000.
 
					- August 23, 2005 – Hurricane Katrina takes 1,836 lives 
					and leaves 135 missing.
 
					- April-May 2011 – A relentless succession of tornadoes 
					ravage the Southeast.
 
					- 2008 – 2011 – The Great Recession, which opens the 
					possibility of another Great Depression.
 
				
				And these are only a few events that occurred in the nation 
				during their lives. This is a scary world we’re living in. 
				Childhood is always a fearful time. Oftentimes children cannot 
				even verbalize what’s making them afraid, whether it’s a monster 
				in the closet, under the bed or a boogey man who might enter at 
				any moment. I’ve held many a boy in the middle of the night 
				shaking from imagined night terrors. But today’s terrors can 
				originate from real events.
				 
				Our boys have also experienced loss firsthand. My four 
				stepsons lost their mommy after a heroic fight against breast 
				cancer. The twins were three, Benji was eight and Andrew, 12. No 
				one can prepare children for such grief to enter their lives. 
				Most children don’t even understand the word cancer and its 
				ramifications, but ours saw the outcome on an intimate basis. 
				And, truthfully, they’ve struggled mightily to understand things 
				and grasp concepts that even mature people find difficult.
				The, “Why do bad things happen to good people?” questions are 
				hard for philosophers and theologians to explain. In the book,
				Man’s Search for Meaning, Viktor Frankl attempted to 
				answer the hard questions of life. As a Holocaust survivor, he’d 
				experienced firsthand one of the  greatest tragedies of all 
				time. He wrote:
				 
				“It did not really matter what we expected 
				from life, but rather what life expected from us. We needed to 
				stop asking about the meaning of life, and instead to think of 
				ourselves as those who were being questioned by life — daily and 
				hourly. Our answer must consist, not in talk and meditation, but 
				in right action and in right conduct. Life ultimately means 
				taking the responsibility to find the right answer to its 
				problems and to fulfill the tasks which it constantly sets for 
				each individual.”
				 
				As parents we’ve tried to answer those tough questions of 
				life, even when we don’t have the answers. It’s a human reaction 
				to search for the meaning behind every life circumstance. We’ve 
				had to tell our children that sometimes there are no easy 
				answers. There are things, both good and bad, that they’ll 
				experience as they grow and mature. We’ve taught them that life 
				makes more sense if you approach it from a faith-based 
				orientation. We’ve taught them that circumstances don’t define a 
				life; it’s the attitude of the receiver that defines the life. 
				We’ve taught them that life is tissue-paper thin and we often 
				remind them to value family and friends because we know that 
				there are no guarantees and that life can change radically from 
				one moment to the next. We tell them regularly that we love 
				them, just so they know, know, know – deep down in their souls — 
				that we treasure having each of them in our lives.
				 
				So as we taught our children to tie their shoes, to clean up 
				their rooms, to play nice with their brothers and friends in the 
				neighborhood, we’ve also had to teach them the meaning of life. 
				Frankl said it so well in his book when he concludes, “The 
				meaning of life is found in every moment of living; life never 
				ceases to have meaning, even in suffering and death.”
				 
				Yet, we miss the mom who died too young and others we’ve lost 
				along the way of life. To quote President Ronald Reagan — who 
				borrowed from John Gillespie Magee, the American poet and 
				aviator of the Second World War — as he spoke to the nation on 
				the night of the shuttle disaster, “We will never forget them, 
				nor the last time we saw them, this morning, as they prepared 
				for their journey and waved goodbye and ‘slipped the surly bonds 
				of Earth’ to ‘touch the face of God.’”
			 
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