There are now so many segments on the evening news that I can’e2’80’99t bear to watch, I might as well just stay in the kitchen and see to whatever is on the stove.
The magazines and newspapers are no better: I close Time with half the articles unread, I turn briskly past the Smithsonian article about the display in Washington, DC showing artists’e2’80’99 renderings of dead Americans, I hurry past the picture in the San Francisco Chronicle of 1500 pairs of boots displayed before City Hall.
And beginning this week, every nondescript American car that comes up our driveway will make my heart stop until I see whether or not the person behind the wheel is wearing a uniform.
This week, my son deploys.
oh, Laurie, I send you love and light and MANY prayers for his safe return.
I cannot believe we are again having to demonstrate to end a war. our leaders seem to be ignorant of history…
Hang in there Laurie. I know its tough. My cousin was sent over a year or so ago (he’s back now). One of the things that will likely make it a little easier is that email is available. It really helps.
It is the end of the world, isn’t it?
There seems to be no end to the madness.
Echoing the prayers and love sent already.
Do you know yet how long he will be there?
Mary, above, commented on the availability of email. When my friend was there (for the official war, before the fighting started) he had pretty much continuous access to email. When they actually invaded he was out of touch for about 48 hours, but that was it. For the people at home this was, of course, nerve-wracking in its own way, but I’m sure less nerve-wracking than the alternative.
So scarey ‘e2’80’93 its so hard to be a parent, protecting your kids until they are grown and then having to let go an watching them go off and sometimes do very scary things. Hopefully despite all the political chess playing, he’e2’80’99ll be able to touch some lives in a good way.
I have a neighbor whose son is in Qatar, another neighbor who just got back from Irag, and a cousin who’s in Iraq now. It’s funny (strange, not comical)… I’m seventeen. This is the first war that’s really affected me at all. I look at my guy friends and try to picture them getting drafted. At least two of them are definitely planning to go into the military.
You have all my sympathy!
I am so very sorry you will have to endure this. When my son came home from his first year at college to announce he was joining the nuclear service of the Navy, I realized if I wanted him to leave the nest, I couldn’t chart his flight path. That was long enough ago that “all” I had to worry about was his being under water for 6 months at a time.
Then my nephew decided he wanted to be all that he could be. I hated listening to the morning news as I woke up. If the lead story spoke of death in the war, I dreaded emails (I didn’t rate the knock on the door). He’s out now and I heaved a sigh of relief until he announced he was joining a personal services organization. They will pay him obscene amounts of money to do security for someone, in Iraq.
I am sorry. I know this must be hard for you. I am almost glad my mother, bless her soul, was not around the first time I deployed, it would have been to hard on her. I am praying for your son. I have been there, and I have many friends there now. Do you know where, or what unit he is going with? More than likely I know their intel guys, I can see if I can have someone keep an eye on him ;-). Hang in there, he’ll be home before you know it.
O, goodness. so scarey. I remeber noticing in your introductory material for the blog that you described yourself as the mother of a soldier
As a woman in her 50’s, I sometimes wonder if all the higher ups in Washington were unconscious during Vietnam (surely most of them were of my era). Can they really have forgotten what the gods of war bring?
I am sure the most comfort will come from people who have lived through this (some eloquent in the lines above). If you want to turn your mind in other directions, I might propose Barbara Pym novels for soothing and Marx Brothers movies for distraction. And if the prayers of a vague theist carry any merit, you and your son certainly have them. –Meredith T.
My warmest thoughts and wishes are with you. I live in a heavily “military” region; many of my 22-year-old daughters best friends are in the military. I am old enough to remember Vietnam, although a bit too young to have had peers serving in that war. This time, I look out over the sea of faces staring back at me from the seats in the lecture hall where I teach. I think about my young friend AJ; about my daughter’s first serious boyfriend, Brandon;
My warmest thoughts and best wishes are with you, your son, and all the other soldiers, mothers, fathers, wives, husbands, children, siblings, friends, teachers, students, whose lives have been so deeply touched by this terrible conflict.