heroes

One of the things I appreciate most about the blogosphere is the genuine support and love we choose to show each other, from the small and complicated parenting dilemmas to illnesses, relationships, and more.

And sometimes that more is more than any of us could imagine. Jenn recently lost someone, a man who was bravely fighting in Iraq in a war that most of us cannot understand. I may disagree fiercely about this war but I never for a minute forget that many brave men and women are carrying out the will of the US Administration with as much honor and integrity as possible and it's this work that is ultimately costing them their lives.

Today I ask you to go and visit Jenn and help me support her and her family as they come to terms with the most shocking loss of all. She's asking for our support by way of comments, tangible words she can share with her family and friends.

Heroes. It's a concept we discuss and debate, each has our own example and idea of what defines it. But for me, it's simple. To stand bravely in the face of adversity because you believe you are doing the right thing. Sgt. Matthew Blaskowski stood bravely and it cost him his life. And now his parents will stand bravely while they bury their son.

To the Blaskowski family and friends, I stand shoulder to shoulder with you in hope and anticipation of a world without war and peace for this great and tragic earth.

we are all children here

This is not a new war photo but it's new to me. I saw it for the first time yesterday and I haven't been able to move it from my mind since. Daddytypes said there are no words for this, and mostly I agree. But then I managed to find a few.

All I can think is what I am always thinking, how dare we allow this war to continue. How this man is also a father, also has a child. About how his son must have been scared, so scared. And has probably been scared for a long, long time.

And how unfair it is, as we tuck our children in at night and forget, we so easily forget, that it's not like this everywhere. And how helpless that makes me feel. This doesn't seem like freedom to me. Not for them, not for us. Not for We.

My heart broke for this father and his son. I have no idea what he did, or better said what we was accused of doing. But I do know he is a father. And I hope to god M never has to see her father like that. I sat crying today when J walked into the room. I silently handed him my laptop, he paused and looked then handed it back. This fucking war, he said. I nodded, unable to speak.

We are all children here.