I'm gonna send a letter.....
Posted by Zoe's Dad at Friday, September 14, 2007 12:12 PM and is filed under Fiction Plane,Iraq,Death Machine,letter,Hope,September 11,contacting the White House,The President 
So I am on my way to the post office to mail a letter. Seems pretty insignificant, right? Well, in the grand scheme of things it probably is but I'm gonna do it anyway. You see, I grew up in the era of the letter. If someone wronged you in any way, send a letter. You're not happy with the local tv station because during a commercial break of your kids favorite Winnie the Pooh cartoon they had the audacity to air a douche advertisement and now your precious tot is scarred for life? Send a letter. You didn't like the way you were treated at Che Snobs? Send a letter. The guy at the service station, you know the one, seems familiar like you went to grade school together but can't recall seeing him in high school. It's because he was never there. He spent his formative years hanging out behind the Tic Toc smoking weed laughing at all of the idiots wiling away their days slaving in the man's schoolhouse. Well, now he's second in line for the next promotion to oil change guy and while dreaming of his better days to come he didn't clean your windshield before topping off the tank in the full service line and you're mad as hell....send a letter. Yes, friends, the letter is powerful. In fact, you want better service because you feel you're about to be wronged? Threaten to send a letter. The mere mention of, "I'm gonna send a letter" will no doubt send any attendant scurrying into action riddled with the fear of the consequences that surely follows receipt of the letter.
Your next question is probably, and rightly so, what's got you riled? Why are you sending the letter and to whom are you sending it? All good questions and I'll answer them in due time. But first, a bit of preface. A few days ago Zane and I had just picked up Zoë from school and we were beginning our drive homeward. As is the norm I usually start the ride home by posing the same question, "So what did you learn in school today?" I didn't get the chance that day as Zoë beat me to the punch.
Dad...
Yes, Zoë.
Did you know, that a lot of years ago..a whole lot, that there was an airplane that flew into a building?
Really?
Yeh. And a bunch of people died......we prayed for them today.
And the clouds parted to cast a true shadow. I hadn't even looked at a calendar so as usual I was totally oblivious to the world going on around me. September 11. Wow! Has it really been six years? Everyone has a where were you when moment. I can still vividly recall that morning six years ago when my wife called me from work to tell me what was going on. I spent the day tying to absorb the reality of what was happening almost in a stupor. My focus shifted from trying to find a rational explanation for myself to how in the world was I going to explain this to my daughter. My eight month old daughter playing on the floor in front of the television totally oblivious to the horrors playing out on the screen before her. Oh, it's come up in conversation from time to time but somehow I've been able to sidestep the main issues and quickly shift the conversation to more pleasing topics like princesses or ponies or ice cream.
Our drive home was going to be very interesting. Very interesting, indeed for we hadn't even made it out of the parking lot and one of my great fears as a parent was becoming reality. I was no longer able to shield my children from the fact that the world is sometimes a harsh and uninviting place. Chinks becoming visible in the armored bubble I have been working so hard to surround them with. I should count myself as lucky for at least I made it six years. Some kids get a whole six minutes before having to face such pain. I made a decision to stop avoiding and try in some small way to face the issue. Then in that ever so, what was I thinking way of mine I muttered just audibly enough, "Yeh, it was sad and terrible day. It's one of the main reasons we're at war today."
We're at war?? Why?
Well, it's because...umm...
OK. So I suck at harsh reality. I couldn't do it. I mumbled something else about terrorists and Iraq and oil but nothing comprehensible to a six and five year old. Hell I'm 42 and I can't comprehend it. Really! How did we get in this mess? Let's see, we're going to retaliate against the people responsible for the events of September 11. That went well. And oh, just next door there is this Iraq place and they have amassed huge quantities of weapons that they may use against us so we had better nip that little situation in the bud while we're over there right? Oh, no weapons? Well, the people were just begging for us to come in there and rid them of their cruel dictator and implement our own form of democracy. Oh, they didn't call us for help?
Let's just suffice it to say the kids were pretty upset and my inadequacies as a comforting father were becoming apparent. Thank God my wife was home when we arrived. She is way more articulate than me and was able to at least give the kids some perspective. And a plan. You see, she, too is from the letter era. She also hails from all things bold and gutsy and suggested to my kids that if they really wanted to do something about this terrible war go to the source, the single person seemingly responsible for our current dismal situation. They should write a letter....to the president of the United States.
I'm cynical. I've never written a letter and have long stopped believing it's power. Maybe it's just a sad testament to the inevitable wearing away at my belief in the system as pure and just. I do however, believe in hope and I believe that my children should always, always have hope. Hope that their actions do and can make a difference in the world around them. So my kids sat down on the afternoon of September 11 and wrote a letter to the president of the United States asking him to please end this war. Do I believe that after reading the simple pleas of a 5 and 6 year old boy and girl that Mr. Bush will call off the hounds? No, I do not. But my kids do. My prayer is that one day soon, very soon our guys will be coming home for good. And when they do, I'll be able to say to my son, "You see, he got your letter."
Lagniappe: Fiction Plane--Death Machine
Go to the source. Contact the White House with your concerns.
Trackbacks
-
Saturday, October 27, 2007 12:33 AM
Zoe's Dad wrote:
For some reason, I feel it necessary to update my readers on an earlier post.
My daughter was just slightly older than Zoe on that day. Explaining to her what had happened was one of the hardest things that I had done as a parent at that point.
I really loved this post and I hope, too, that you can tell them that he read their letter.
Reply to this
As a parent, I just want my kids to continue drawing faces that have smiles on them. As a positive spin, I choose to remind my kids that Sept. 11 is Uncle Marco's Birthday. Let's think about that and be happy instead.
Reply to this
Bravo to Zoe and Zane!
9/11 was my wife's first day of maternity leave before our first was born. She sat home, glued to the TV, terrified all day.
We still haven't had to explain that day or the state of the world to him or his younger brother and sister yet. Maybe things will change before we do! (Soon!)
Reply to this
Thanks for sharing this. it's a beautiful post.
Reply to this
Remember to tell them that yes, war is not good but the U.S. is the protector of the world. Like it or not. We are scorned for doing and not doing. Congress supported that decision and now like a diseased body on antibiotics, if we stop taking them the infection WILL come back, maybe even stronger. Tell your children that our troops need their support and they are fighting for Freedom. And yes they didn't ask us to come and save them, Saddam wouldn't let them speak.
Reply to this