The Sound of Silence

Sometimes there just aren't words.

There is witty repartee, the written equivalent of the brave face. A necessary deception when revisiting a topic that has been discussed and worried to death over the last several years. And yet, the worry is only about to begin.

Iraq, like death and mortal illness, is a concept that exists for many, or at least for me, only through a Hollywood-like lens, which is to say that it exists not at all. Not in reality. It is a civic thought, a furrowed brow, a distant problem. And then, suddenly, it lands right in your lap and, in an immediate and unseen contortion, sears a hole through your heart, front to back.

I have known for years this was a possibility. He wanted to go. Always said he did. He signed up for the Marine Corps in the middle of a war for chrissakes. And yet I never really believed he would go. Lawyers, in uniform or not, are always the ones with the soft hands. Soft hands do not an effective warrior make. But a strong and determined heart does. And one who chose the path of most resistance and highest level of difficulty long ago, and has always proven himself valiant time and again, is off to prove it "for real" this time.

I believe the kids and the cause - if that cause is to keep everyone in the infantry alive and well - to be better off for his presence. But the peril alone is such a high price to pay, even if the mission were not one fraught with so many misgivings for everyone. His wellbeing, his life, are a toll I simply cannot contemplate, and one which I would refuse to pay.

But I don't get a say in these matters. Frankly, neither does he. What the future holds is unknown. All I can do is pray, to whatever higher power might listen, for his continued safety. And learn to live with the curious combination of shock, fear and pride - an unshakable and lingering feeling of having taken a bracing blow to the gut.

Now whether I am entitled to have any of these feelings is a whole other matter. Most rational people in my life would say no. But this one. I just can't explain it. Never have. Never will. And I don't think I want to - I appreciate that, for all its absurdities, it is one of the few things in my life I have felt more than I have thought. And that is all I have to say about that.

I started this post with the statement that there just aren't words, and then went one to spew forth a thousand of them. Multitudinous as they may be, the statement is still true: There are no words to do him or the situation any true justice.