Sorry for not having posted last week; I've been purposely silent, almost fearful of expressing myself. The anger and frustration course deep within.
On Monday afternoon, somewhere on the outskirts of Baghdad, a Humvee being driven by my son, Evan, struck an IED (improvised explosive device) buried in the middle of a highway. The vehicle was blown apart by the blast. My son and his fellow soldiers were stunned, but rather amazingly unharmed. So fucking relieved... While chatting with me via IM after the incident, Evan scoffed at the notion that a national debate over Bush's Iraq policy would have a malign effect on military morale, and a salutary influence on the "enemy":
"The insurgents are already emboldened... Too late!"
As I later wrote to a friend, "I can't say 'fuck' loud and long enough."
My son's close brush with Thanatos has put me off the keypad...
Closer to home, and almost nearly as enervating, my father's health continues to precipitously decline. I love the old guy so much... I wouldn't wish Alzheimer's on anyone. (No, not even ______.)
Hope all of you are well.