Maybe it's just me, but I cannot celebrate someone's death.
Even if he or she hated me. Even if he or she wanted me dead. Even if in the moment of struggle, I had to destroy him or her.
I still can't celebrate.
Because behind every human being is a mother, sister, brother, lover, wife, child, cousin, friend, colleague, or even an acquittance, who's loss is immeasurable. And to be perfectly honest, I share 99% genetic material with every single human being. As annoying, cruel, lovely, blessed or evil as they might be, they are all my brothers and sisters.
How can I celebrate the demise of one of my own brothers and sisters?
After Columbine, I watched in horror as the victim's family pulled down Eric Harris and Dylan Klebold's crosses. Didn't these parents also lose their sons? Won't their friends grieve with confusion over their actions and their death? If you doubt the pain, confusion and tremendous loss felt by a parent of an accused killer, take a moment to read what Dylan Klebold's mother has to say. Her loss is no less significant than the other parents.
This morning, while I was working out, I found this video which speaks to how I feel.
"Hate breeds Hate; Love destroys Hate. This is a universal law." - The Buddha
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