The last several months have been seeped with attempts to win fear. First there was the incident in Quebec where military members were run down in their own country and one lost his life.  Scary and heartbreaking, but seemed like a one-off incident.  It was a little easier to breath after that one because maybe, maybe that coward behind his car was the only one. Then there was the shooting in Ottawa.  Another soldier, this time gunned down by a madman who rushed into our Parliament.  The country took notice.  It was on everyone’s mind, everyone lips.  It was around that time I was sending Dh on his 4th deployment.  Everything was standing still.  The memories of sending him to Afghanistan after 9/11 started to creep back in, reminding me of the time when the reasons seemed more obvious than they have become.  After the years where deployments have started to blend together (“wait, was that during your 2nd tour or your 3rd?“), years where the quiet complacency that can only be found in countries like ours where war and terror are far removed from our normal, clouded the resolve that had once been clear. When I see the news and hear the coffee shop/break room chatter, I want it to feel like it used to.  Removed.  That while devastating to some, not life altering to me.  Selfishly, so selfishly, I want to be one of those people in line at Starbucks who analyze every political talking point of these events with the ease of those who have never watched a bus pull away.  I want to be one of those college students on the train who theorize conspiracies and…