NOW THAT'S NOT FUNNY

Proof of Damage

It's no consolation to me that other mothers, and wives of American soldiers, whose sons and husbands have recently returned from Iraq, are reporting these young, brave, and war-weary men have taken up a new and unexpected penchant for sleeping on the floor. We are waking up to find them sleeping on the floors beside comfortable beds.

Since my son’s returned from Iraq, I find him sleeping on the floor, curled up in a tight little ball, seemingly trying to make himself undetectable.

The other day I couldn’t help but notice, when as a passenger in my suburban, how his body jerked when one of those tractor trailer truck’s empty trailer's made that loud, hollow sounding BOOM.

Jon-Ray’s older brother, Ray, did not announce he was about to set off a bottle rocket in the back of his truck. As soon as Ray’s bottle rocket exploded, Jon-Ray was suddenly hugging the ground, not in a cowardly fashion, but in a manner that was an automatic response to danger. Jon-Ray’s body language and terse facial expression appeared to be like that of a wild animal about to leap into action – fight or flight.

My once vibrant, noisy son has developed stealth capabilities. He enters our home, and moves about undetected. The silence is deafening.

He speaks quietly, and infrequently, not in a whisper, but in a manner that commands concentrated, deliberate listening.

These are the new life skills that the great American Army has taught my son, and skills I’m grateful he learned well.

As I watch my son sleeping on the floor beside his comfortable bed, I try to imagine how his military service in Iraq did this to him – I can’t.

I venture to say that I don’t think any of us who have not served in Iraq can comprehend the horrors of this war; nor could we, the uninitiated, anticipate, or prepare ourselves to witness the physical manifestations of the ordeals through which they’ve lived.

I believe the old sons of bitches, whose fault this war in Iraq is, can't imagine the psychological baggage our young soldiers are bringing home.

My observations of my son, and the personal stories I’ve read from others about their loved ones behaviors and reactions to normal daily stimuli since their return from Iraq should stand as proof enough of the damage caused by the ravages of war on all these young American citizens.

Then I think about the men who come home, sans arms and legs, and know they’ve been through this, and even more bare the visible scars of war.

Not since my son’s birth have I been so grateful that he still has all his fingers and toes (arms and legs).

Damn the President’s lies that sent our soldiers into harms way.

“You can fool some of the people all of the time and those are the ones you want to concentrate on.” George W. Bush, joking at a Gridiron Club dinner, Washington, D.C., March 2001