05/27/2013 by syrbal-labrys
I am not here posting on this Monday morning. Perhaps I am lying in bed next to my husband, a veteran of Viet Nam, now finally seeking help at the VA Hospital for his PTSD. Perhaps I am in the kitchen making coffee cake for my veteran son, as he hobbles painfully on the wrecked knees that ended his military career. Perhaps I am looking through a photo album for me in uniform, and thinking about those I served with in the good old “Cold” War. Perhaps I am grimly worrying about my youngest son, in Afghanistan….hoping he lives to be an embittered veteran like the three of us here.
Because today is NOT about those of us who survived military service to bitch another day. Nor is it the day to switch closets and shoes out to ‘summer’ mode. And no, it isn’t for a drunken BBQ party either….we did a non-drunken party to celebrate my veteran son’s college graduation on Saturday. And I am worrying, where ever I am, as whatever reader drops in to read this. Because I don’t know when this damned set of wars at the end-of-empire phase will ever end. How many more names, in my lifetime, will I walk around that Labyrinth in the dusk at end of day? Will I ever be able to let clover bury those stones in leafy green metaphor? (Did you know 4 leaf clovers were ‘lucky’ because they allegedly held the luck to avoid press gangs grabbing men for military service?)
And if we don’t stop making war to enrich already full pockets? We could run out of highways to name for fallen troops. And where ever I am as this post auto-appears? I am angry and sad all at once; bracing for more grief and shattering that comes at the knockings on doors around the country. And for what? For WHAT Sen. Coburn, you asshat? How DARE you say “This war is going to continue“!