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Wednesday, November 10, 2010

Wars of the World & Wars of the Body (Main St. & Me)


I went to the eye doctor today and had to wait in a short line to sign in. A lovely woman ahead of me chatted with the clerk behind the counter. She held four boxes of contact lenses in her hand for one of her sons, and there was discussion about the billing. The clerk asked after the son, apparently a soldier who had been in for an appointment earlier in the week.

"Such a nice young man," the clerk said.

"Thanks," said the mother. "He's a good kid. He leaves for Afghanistan again this week, so I'm glad I could get these contacts today."

"How long will he be gone?"

"Only eight and a half months, then he goes to Colorado Springs for three months, and then home for good, and back to school."

The mother was blond, slim, youthful and proud of her young soldier. She was smiling and optimistic, cheerful and strong. I cringed, my heart balling up in a fist just looking at her. How does she do it? How do any of them? She left, and I couldn't shake that tiny encounter. The clerk and I discussed it further later, sending out little prayers in our commisseration.

My eye doctor found that I have a hole in my retina. More doctors to be seen. It occured to me that America has a huge hole in its own retina. Not sure there's any surgery that can right it. My heart is so heavy tonight.

And that monkey George W. Bush is publishing his memoirs full of lies and/or total denial to try to rewrite history. SHAME ON YOU, GEORGE W. BUSH. We needed none of
this.

Tomorrow is Veteran's Day -- a huge thank you and celebratory Yee Haw to the girls and boys in the military. Your work is daunting even if your government is nuts.
The veterans of ALL our wars deserve our thanks. My father was a war hero, and the last crew member of his B-17, the navigator, Bob Jackson (no relation to my dad, Lex Jackson) died this past week at the age of 94. RIP, Bob, and I hope you and my daddy know how many people across the world honor your sacrifice and service.

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