My granddaughter and the Taliban

I have a granddaughter, and, blessed as I am, my daughter agreed to live so near that I see my granddaughter almost every day. In fact we have dinner together almost every night.

My cup runneth over.

So what do I say when I hear that women and children were killed in Afghanistan by us as we attacked a key Taliban leader? I hate the Taliban. Believe me, I hate them as much as they hate us. My wife tells me I'm too vehement. She thinks I should have compassion for tyrants, even for murderers. She doesn't like them, but she thinks I should have compassion for them. I think she's crazy. But I would never see my granddaughter if it weren't for the grace and thoughtfulness of my wife. And the grace and understanding of my daughter. The women and children. They are absolutely the raison d'etre. So when we disappoint them, when we make them cry, when we kill them, why do we bother living. We must weep as we kill a Taliban leader and with him, women and children. And we must wonder if the deaths were worth it. For our own humanity, we must wonder if the childrens' deaths were worth killing the bad guys.