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My son left Toronto several years ago to move to Florida. He’s in the music business (producer/composer), and he was offered an opportunity there that he couldn’t refuse.
Last night we were emailing back and forth; he’s upset because he’s having problems with his Mercedes. He’d dreamt about owning a new Mercedes since he was a teenager, and after years of hard work – often done without pay as he built up a reputation in his field – he treated himself to his dream car when he finally ‘made it’ and started to earn the big bucks.
After commiserating with him over his mechanical woes, I realized how fortunate I am. My biggest worry for my son is that he’s having trouble with his Mercedes.
I thought about all of the mothers who have much bigger worries tonight; worries that their son in Iraq might not be alive next month, next week, tomorrow.
I won’t even venture into the realm of I can only imagine what those mothers go through, day in and day out – because I can’t imagine. My mind won’t even let me go there and, if it did, I still couldn’t really know how they feel. I don’t think anyone can really know, other than those who are living with that nightmare, twenty-four hours a day.
All of our young men should be worried about their Mercedes – or their boat, or their classic 50’s jukebox, or their year spent traveling in Europe – whatever it is that young men dream about having some day, and work to finally achieve.
All of our young men should be worried about whether their favorite team will make the series this year, instead of worrying about surviving in a hostile place on the other side of the world.
They should be thinking about calling that girl they met at the bar last week, instead of thinking about whether their next call home will be their last.
They should be laughing with their buddies about who got punk’d but good by their last practical joke, instead of crying with their brothers-in-arms over who got taken out by an IED and never saw it coming.
They should be home, marrying their childhood sweetheart, taking over the family farm, starting up that construction business they planned for years, finishing med school, watching their first daughter being born, driving their son to Little League practice – doing all of the things that young men do.
And mothers shouldn’t be afraid to answer the phone, because it might be that call. Mothers shouldn’t feel a sense of panic every time there is an unexpected knock on the door.
Young men should only have to worry about their Mercedes – and mothers shouldn’t have to worry at all.
Please, God, let this be over soon. For the sake of the young men and their mothers, for the sake of all of the men and women who are so far from home, for the sake of the people whose lives we continue to destroy, and for the sake of a country that is truly capable of much better things.
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