Commentary: A parent's connection to the news

When I picked up The Wall Street Journal just a few days ago, a wave of emotion rushed through me.

There they were, those boys and girls lined up in white bags, their faces uncovered and their eyes closed. One peaceful face, after another. Another. Another. Boys. Girls. An older child. A younger one. All dead. All gone. A world away.

The children in the photo were victims of a chemical weapon attack in Syria. The photo showed a couple of adults, who were there kneeling at a child's feet. The photo did not show the adult faces. It needn't. The body language of grief is universal, and so should be our response to it. I thought of those children, and their last few minutes of life, how horrified and scared they must have been. My heart broke for them. I became angry. I thought the people responsible for this must be tracked down and punished. I posted the photo in our newsroom. It was a reminder of the power of photography, the importance of journalism.

Humanity cannot let this happen to children, I thought. It just can't. Why would anyone do this? What gain could possibly be worth this cost? It makes no sense! This is war. This is unvested power. This is blasphemous.

We later learned from U.S. officials that 400 children died in the attack that killed more than 1,400 overall. It's difficult to follow the news these days if you're a parent. When I looked at that photo, I thought of my boys, ages 15, 5 and 4. I couldn't help but imagine them lying there in that row. I imagined a terrorism event in my hometown. If I were a parent kneeling before them, what would I do? I couldn't and can't answer that question. I would have to do something, I suppose, but what? What will those parents do? Start a revolution? That's what led to this violence. What is their recourse? How will they cope?

The best part of my day, every day, is my reunion after work with my two little boys. Sometimes I pick them up from their school. My youngest one still gets escorted down the hallway, his after-school caregiver holding his hand. Eli knows running is against the school rules, but he can never contain himself, and he smiles all the way down the hall. As soon as his hand is released he runs to me, he hugs my leg and calls out, "Daddy!"

Dawson, my 5-year-old, usually starts in with a story or a question of what's for supper.

I don't know what to do or how our nation should respond to Syria. I'll leave that decision to those who best understand the consequences of responding with force. But doing nothing has consequences, too. What is our moral responsibility here? It's a question with no good answer.

There are a lot of stories and events in the news today of which I have no control. Veto overrides. Rodeo clowns. The unemployment rate. The heat wave. Murders. Layoffs.

Is all the news worth worrying about?

Sure it is, some of it. Maybe most of it.

But for me, the news often reminds me of how great my normal and imperfect life is.

As Facebook, Twitter and general broadcast and print commentary blew up this week over Miley Cyrus and her provocative antics on stage, I thought about our young people. Of course, I first thought about my 15-year-old son, studying hard and taking the tough classes. Working a part-time job. Getting up early three days a week for weight training in preparation for baseball season. He might have a bad taste in music and listen to some of the garbage that Miley-like artists produce, but here's my kid, a normal kid, who implored me last spring to allow him to take two math courses this year so he'd be eligible for calculus his senior year. He's finding out it isn't easy. And I tell him it's not supposed to be.

I heard radio show hosts talking about how our society is going down the tubes, because of young Miley, that poor messed-up girl, and all the rest of the brash Hollywood entertainers. I beg to differ. I see a bright future at home with my oldest son. Thousands and thousands of good kids across the country just like Drew will improve our world. You just watch. (By the way, have you heard Ashton Kutcher's recent speech? Check it out. It's parent-friendly, I promise.).

I took little Eli to the hardware store for the first time the other day. We picked up some paint. He and Dawson helped me paint a bench on our patio. Later I continued painting the patio concrete, just me and my thoughts, the baseball game streaming from my iPhone in the background. I thought about that Wall Street Journal photo. And I thought about what I was doing, where I lived, the freedom and security I enjoyed, and most of all, whom I loved.

And a wave of emotion rushed through me.

The absence of news filled me up as I painted the night away.

Bob Miller is the editor of the Southeast Missourian. He can be reached by email at bmiller@semissourian.com