Two years ago today, I was tying yellow ribbon number three around the tree in front of my house. Next month would be number four; there would not be a fifth ribbon. I don’t remember when I took them down but I do remember doing it. I had the scissors in my hand and a sudden urge to stab the tree. I had to fight the urge; I wanted to stab it over and over and over again. But I didn’t. I cut the ribbons off and cried. I wanted to put black ribbons on every tree in my yard but I didn’t do that either. I just cried.