April 18, 2004

• My Secret Shame

  Awright, the title is an exaggeration.  The closest I’ve come to
  feeling shame in a long while is a minor chagrin, and the closest thing
  I have to a secret is a story I’ve not yet gotten around to
  telling.  With that disclaimer out of the way, I must confess that
  I’m uncomfortable with the feelings I have about the Iraq war.  I
  had thought that this old woman had grown beyond worrying, and I surely
  do know that worry never solved anything, but lately I find myself frequently
  wondering what has happened to Sephiroth.

  Seph
  is an extraordinary young man whom I watched grow from a strange young
  boy.  He was one of Doug’s few close friends in
  school.   I really got to know him when he moved in with us
  for a while after he dropped out of high school, while Doug was still
  finishing up his senior year–which it took him two years to do since
  he couldn’t be bothered with homework.

  Seph chose his name, took it from a bizarre character in one of our
  mutual favorite video games, and had it legally changed from
  Randy.  He hated Randy.  His mother told him she named him
  that because that was how she was feeling when he was conceived. 
  It’s some sort of family tradition.  He has a cousin named after
  the brand of booze his aunt was drinking when that kid was
  conceived.  When his mom moved away, Randy (about sixteen at the
  time) stayed and went from friend to friend until he eventually got a
  job and made it on his own.

  He and my son have been close for as long as they’ve known each other,
  and since the time he lived with us he and I have grown
  even closer than he and Doug are.  A few months ago, while his
  unit was preparing to leave Germany for Iraq, he was calling me several
  times a week.  We would talk for hours, about life and young love,
  philosophy, metaphysics, politics and weird parapsychological
  shit.  He has apparently always had a number of what J.B. Rhine
  referred to as “wild talents” and until he met me they used to trouble
  him.  I have not only been able to supply a vocabulary in which he
  can now discuss them, but have helped him accept them.  This is a
  person I love, with a story whose next installment I eagerly await
  hearing.

  I have not heard from him since a phone call at least two months ago in
  which he mentioned that everything was packed for shipment to Iraq and
  the troops were awaiting transport.  For a while his silence
  didn’t cause me concern.  There have been lengthy gaps in his
  communication before.  But the more I hear about war casualties,
  the more I wonder how he is. 

  My interest in Iraq has increased since he is there.  I’m more closely following the warblogs, Raed in the Middle and Baghdad Burning.  Wanting to find information on casualties, I searched Google and found the Department of Defense’s news releases.  No news yet on Sephiroth, and no communication from him.  Surely they have phones in Iraq.

  Not worried, just wondering if he knows how much I care….
  

  • 1:08 pm
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