Tuesday, November 28, 2006

Ed Is Deploying to Iraq

My husband is going to Iraq because he's an officer in the Marine Corps, with 19 1/2 years of service (which means he's very, very close to retirement), and he made an oath to obey the orders of his commanders. And because, despite EVERYTHING I've done, all the letters I sent to Congress and all the protests I went to and all the petitions I signed and all the money I gave to other candidates and both times I voted --- despite working every day to stop this misguided war, my country is being led by a stupid, lying rich man who doesn't care that what he's done is a mistake that's being paid for with the blood of our husbands and the blood of Iraqi women's husbands. I am so angry I could spit. I hope one day the people of Iraq will forgive us, and realize that there were many, many of us who were happy to see Saddam go but devastated to see what happened to their country because of decisions our president made that we had no control over. George Bush is a blight on our country, and for many years I have been ashamed to call myself an American.

Ed leaves in two weeks, and he'll be somewhere in Baghdad (we don't know where yet) for 7 months. He'll miss Christmas, and all the children's birthdays. It's going to be so hard for them, they're so close to their papi. Hard for me, too. Hardest of all because it's for something I think is terribly wrong. He's not a combat officer, he's a finance officer, so he shouldn’t be going on patrol, he should be in an office somewhere. They issued him his gear last week --- he's keeping it in his car so I can't see it, but I know it's there, the kevlar vest, the helmet. The thought that someone might look at him and see an Evil American (instead of the man who loves falafel and knows to eat with his right hand and what Ramadan means, who liked being in Saudi Arabia and took a vacation to Yemen of all places) and that something might happen to him is honestly more than I can even think about. I will make myself strong enough to take care of our family while he's gone. But how could I live if half my heart were ripped out?

I can't imagine how all of this looks to you, to anyone looking at us from the outside. I'm so sorry. I wish I could make an apology loud enough to be heard in Iraq.