The Call

I must have been around 15. I was up in my room doing homework when the phone rang. I  heard my mother answer it. She didn't say much. She was in listening mode. It would be a short call.

Slowly  an indiscernible sound began to make  it's way upstairs..  ,  it didn't sound human at all , but finally  I realized it was my mom sobbing. Not at all like one imagines crying to be. It was an expression of grief for which there are no words  , a sound so dreadful you would not thing humans could produce a sound so horrendous.

So that was that. No more clinging to the last string of hope. He was  dead. Killed in action in Vietnam They kinda strung the family along for a time. My mom would get daily updates from my aunt about his injuries.

After it was all said and done it was a closed coffin affair so we all  imagined there wasn't much of him left over. I guess the 2 accompanying soldiers was to make sure no one tried to open it. My aunt was never the same.

And here we are again , families all across the country are getting the call. This times it's Iraq.
Only those who have been through it could  know how devastating it is to lose a young man in an unnecessary war , inundated with the unimaginable grief  while everyone else just goes on about their business getting on with " the shopping ".

It took a special talent to be able to drive a super power into a deep sandy ditch..wheels spinning but unable to move forward or back out...