I didn't post yesterday, even though it was one of those days where I think a lot of people will have posted thoughts about the Global War on Terror, 9/11 and speculate as to whether or not what the US is doing now on the worldfront is right or wrongheaded.

Shrug.Frankly, I'm not sure. Blogs like Afghan Quest, CP, Sgt. Grumpy. Lt. Nixon or CI Roller's, I think they, and those like them, would offer more insightful ideas about what is or was done there and what impact it has had and will have. I cannot form as educated or experienced-based of an opinion. Figuratively, I sit at their feet, listen and try to learn.

I can say that it's easy to feel patriotic or righteously indignant when you see countryman falling out of burning buildings or planes being turned into giant, fuel laden missiles. I like millions of others did experience that. I feel terrible for those people who died and for those families whos' lives will never be the same. I can't imagine what they have had to live through in the eight years since. It's unfathomable.

I remember standing in my living room with Joanna, cherubic at four months old and riding my hip, while I answered the door to the Fedex lady with a smile that morning and watchimg her face change as she simultaneously looked over my shoulder at the TV behind me and morphed her face from a smile of equal measure to one of unequaled horror. I turned and we both stood on the threshold of my home and watched the television camera train on a plane as it cut through a tower. My facial expression then mirrored her own.

Time stood still.
It did.But it was an illusion.The continuum is never really broken.
Time moves us.It had to.It still has to.None of us still drive the roads with shoe polish sentiments on our car windows and flags or yellow ribbons flying off our antennaes.At the time there was nothing we collectively wanted more than retribution.

Outward exhibitions of such patriotism were seen which we as a nation hadn't experienced since the last World War.It was heady, visceral, but unsustaining.

Time has brought us to a point where now we need sustainment and the opportunity to maintain an awareness and a sense of focus on the matters at hand. Awareness reminds me of all the other sacrifices by those who serve our country in quiet, in obscurity, off camera.

There are clear and present matters at hand which should demand the same focus and passion, but do not come replete with the natural, communal shock and drive of the images and impact of that day, but I hold that they are of the same import and have the same lasting effects on our country and citizenry.

Families fragmented for months on end because of multiple deployments, marriages which struggle with the demons of fear, loneliness and infidelity and those that end in divorce.
Single parents who live day by day and fight these demons with often no one to talk to. They love their warrior so much they don't want to worry them of struggles at home so they just try to keep it together as best they can.

Those warriors who believe that they have no respite from the stress of combat for fear of the stigma of counseling and shame of not bearing up under the natural strains attached to serving their country.

Homes of Reservists which are lost because of foreclosure when the family income is cut in half--an Army engineer and a private engineer just don't pull down the same kind of income.

Children who only know their father or mother because of a picture or a voice on the phone and who struggle with attachment issues.

Guard members who come back and find that while they may have a job, they have lost seniority and payraises getting lost in the shuffle.

Airmen, sailors, coastguardsman, soldiers and Marines who wait for letters or mail out on edges of civilization-- who need to feel remembered and not forgotten so far from home and reminded that what they contribute has inherent long-affecting impact.

Warriors whos' bodies and minds come back irrevocably changed.
9/11 was one of those days where discord and tragedy were distilled into a couple of hours with a mind numbing Doppler effect. God rest all those souls who's cries were almost palpable due in part to the horrific scenes now burned into our minds. May they rest with the angels.

For those still alive and dealing with the aftermath whether by choice or circumstance, I believe we owe them the same ongoing awareness and whatever support we can offer.

It may not be as dramatic or palpable a rise in consciousness these more mundane sacrifices I have pointed out. Surely 9/11 represents a perspective of violence on innocents and an obvious psychic tearing of our country unparalleled in the 21st century thus far and may it continue to be so.

Still, let none of the struggles each human touched by this Global War on Terror eight years ago and through the years since be in vain. These struggles are just as collective and impacting on our country as those experienced on that September morning.

Never forget.Then and now.

Have been madly jobhunting and trying to keep up with my guys and gals flung all over. Not the best blogger. Lots of boring reasons BUT suffice to say I will be kind enough to not bore you and will give you this link so you can go check out the whole story behind the big toaster and crock pot drive. It starts with this pain in the ass 1st Sgt who I love like my 5th kid and often want to kill like one of my own, too.

)i vey!
and I'm not even Jewish!

Check it out over at Castra Praetoria.

I've been busy and then not so busy.
I'm here, but looking for a job,
taking care of my guys,
my kids,
getting into a school routine
and well, that's about it.

Saw a bunch of old homeschool friends recently,
been totally bad about any kind of social media save admining Mike's Castra Praetoria blog and posting for World on Terror News.
I hired a personal trainer even though I can't afford it and because I don't want to buy a size 8. Thighs kissing ever so slightly was a smack to the back of the head like no other. For me, I mean. Don't bust my ass.

I've been a bit of a lazy sow since the cruise and Taji falling through.


Still waiting to hear back from Lima Company, but the 1st Sgt in that battalion's H&S Company said Lima did get all their supplies. Thanks and as soon as I get pics I'll put them up!

hope

My house is trashed... boxes, custom forms, labels, bubble wrap everywhere. It's postal, I tell ya! Postal!

Remnants of a four day weekend and a visit from one of our friends we made during his deployment you will find in my room since I haven't actually unpacked from the resort, yet.

There's bag of flips flops hanging on the doorknob for Kanani and my dining room table looks like a Stop and Go covered in jerky, cigarettes, dip, snacks and magazines.

What I need is for Tony to call me up and say, "Hey honey, the principal from Jake's new school wants to do a home visit for his interview. She'll be over for dinner tonight."

Ohmyhell.
THEN I'd move my ass.

Maybe.

I've been shopping for Kanani's husband here lately. (see previous post)Seems you can find flip flops, shower shoes whatever you want to call them are a dollar at craft stores like Michael's and Hobby Lobby. I'll post more about what has been collected thus far, but in the meantime I have a blog I want you to go take a look at. It's one of those start at the a beginning blogs...well it is for me. The pictures, his prose, his ability to convey deployment experience makes his writing almost palpable.

Blogs like this give me the eyes and ears I don't have being a civilian trying to assist my adopted troops the best way I can. I want to know the environment, the mindset and the experiences, social, political and military in order to be useful. Blogs like Afghan Quest written by an deployed Army NCO are a touchstone for that.

Here are some stark, captivating and poignant excerpts from some of his work in late winter/early spring 2007.

On the Taliban:

It has been written that the people are the water that the insurgent fish swims in. Part of our job is to separate him from the water. I’m sure that I’ve looked right into Taliban eyes by now. I just can’t be sure which ones. I won’t take action against someone I’m not sure is an enemy. But to ignore them is to court
disaster.

On navigating the emotions of deployment:

So, to re-center myself for now; I am getting to spend time with my kids. I am getting to enjoy them, and spend time with them, and let them know that their dad loves them so very much. They are enjoying the sense of peace as much as I am. There will pain when I leave again, this time for a bit longer… but there is time for that when it is time to feel it. It will be a rich emotion, too. It is life, and thank God that I can feel anything.For today, I am enjoying being in my home city, being with my children, being with family and friends. I am grateful for all of this, and for all of them. We are alive.

Here's a piece on a crescent moonrise a few days ago:

I noticed tonight that Kabul twinkles at night. I don’t know what it is, but the lights of Kabul twinkle much like stars embedded in a fabric that climbs up the mountains like a Christmas tree blanket over a tree stand. They are not all the same dull yellowish color or blue-tinted white of American city lights. There seem to be many colors, from bright white to bright red, muted greens and yellowish glares. It almost seems festive, and I ponder the many lives being lived next to the twinkling points; the children growing up in this dusty city heaving itself slowly out of the quagmire of war’s rubble, barely daring to hope for a future with a bit of liberty.

It’s too much to consider.

I notice an almost ominous glow behind one of the mountains. Back home such a glow would signal some sort of large event. Here, as I forgot, it heralds the coming of the moon. What I see is the bright light of earth’s largest satellite glowing like an approaching car’s headlights. The far side of the mountain is already bathed in its light, but here on the other side, I stand in shadow, slowly realizing that it is the moon and not some great social event or impending disaster.

A bright, unblinking light appears atop the mountain. It is the tip of the crescent which momentarily becomes apparent; a triangle, its sharpened tip growing taller at a surprising rate. Within seconds, it begins to resemble a shark’s tooth breaking free of the mountainous jaw, jutting skyward. This effect grows and is not lost until the moon is nearly free of the grasp of the mountain. Finally, the nearly half-moon rests for a few seconds atop the mountain, seemingly paused there as if resting from the effort.

The illusion is broken; the moon separates itself from the mountain and resumes its climb. The moonshadow begins to retreat towards the moon, slowly racing across the valley towards the base of the opposing mountain as the moon literally shines like a muted sun on the glittering city of Kabul. The moon is risen.

I think it took less than two minutes. Some things just leave me shaking my head slowly and muttering about beauty to myself, alone in the dark.

See?

Go visit Afghan Quest.