I’m usually insulated from the news on weekends because there’s always something else going on. So I was caught completely off guard when I clicked on the MSNBC website a short time ago and saw this headline:
Gadhafi’s youngest son, grandkids killed in NATO attack
Gadhafi’s name scarcely registered as I saw “son, grandkids killed.” It didn’t really matter at that moment who the father and grandfather was. Someone, in a horrible split second, in the middle of a family gathering, had seen a beloved son and three grandchildren blown to pieces. I don’t have words for the sorrow I felt or the emptiness inside. You’d have to be a parent and grandparent to even begin to understand.
No doubt a lot of people are thinking that with Gadhafi right there in the same room, it was just bad luck he wasn’t killed. And many more are probably hoping the loss of so many family members will finally convince him to leave Libya. And maybe I will too, tomorrow, or next week.
Today a NATO pilot pushed a button and almost killed Gadhafi. Almost. Instead, a son and three grandchildren died. It’s time to get out of Libya. And out of Afghanistan and Iraq. Before we and our allies kill any more sons or grandchildren. Before any more grandparents have to mourn.