Peacemonger Mom

My son just enlisted in the military. I'm a peace activist. Why couldn't he have rebelled in some other way, like being republican?

Friday, February 02, 2007

Since TB has said that his unit is being deployed, my sleep patterns and my dreams have changed dramatically. I've always been one to have those weird dreams where one minute, I'm naked in chemistry class, and another minute, I'm shopping for gilded lillys in New York. Since TB told me of his deployment, my dreams are linear, they have a plot, even if a loosely written and very Stanley Kubrich-ish one. This morning, TB was preparing to marry, and was wearing a dress uniform, and was talking to a brother (who he doesn't have) and joking around. They were discussing cars, and TB made a lunge for his brother he doesn't have, and in my dream, their comments and cutting up were so funny. His not-brother was dressed differently, and was a Marine, and I realized as I watched this film (because in my dream it was really a film, a film of the wedding rehersal, and it wasn't on a DVD or anything, but on one of those old film strips, think high school, where the film had to be threaded into the movie projector), I realized with a sinking horror, that now I have to worry about not just one, but two, and even worse, one of them is a Marine. But at the same time, I laughed in my dream, because they were cutting up, and having fun, and loving each other as siblings do. Gary asked me this morning when we got up if I had had a funny dream, because I was giggling.

If I were to indulge in any sort of dream interpretation (a skill I learned as a young teen, whilst my dear mum was in school for to become a counselor - I regularly ate my Corn Pops while listening to Mom and her roommate discuss their various dreams from the night before over their coffee) I would see this as my subconcious telling me to enjoy and love what I have - what I *can* appreciate and be achingly thankful for. I have only one son, I am not like the family at TB's graduation from Basic, who had four, all of them overseas, and two in Baghdad. Statistically, I am luckier than them. TB is a soldier, not a Marine - also referred to by some as "a bullet magnet" - what a horrible thought - and statistically speaking, he is better off than many. Finally, and most importantly, he is alive, happy, and I am enjoying every moment of being a part of his life. He is not off somewhere doing something that I have no idea about, as was the case this time last year. He is talking to me, regularly, and calling me with his joys and his worries. He is involving me in his life. This is new, and it is joyful to me.


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5:06 PM  
Blogger Mary said...

I just saw your posts for the first time. I'm "Peacemonger" from another blog location. I can't in my wildest dreams imagine what it would be like to have a child in the military. My heart goes out to you.

9:11 AM  

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