...or if you don't know anyone who's been deployed to Iraq, you should read Jennmommy5's latest comment [1]. Her husband is being deployed for the third time:

One day I found myself standing in an on-post post office cuddled up in my arms like a lover was a priority mail box covered in priority mail tape. I looked down and up the line and I saw myself repeated. Over a half dozen other women of various shapes and sizes and colours all standing in line cuddling thier boxes as if it were the man they were sending it too. Box sizes were different, we were different and yet we were the same. The woman beside me had completely wrapped her box in tape. She told me the last package hadn't faired well. I almost burst into tears at that moment. I could see it in all thier eyes. All these strangers and yet here we were all feeling just the same thing in our hearts. All of us trying to transfer the last bit of love we could into those boxes before we handed the to the postal clerks to be weighed and charges outrageous amounts of shipping. It was a longing we shared. This was how we felt close to the men we loved. This was our intamacy, our contact. We were touching the box and at some point not to be predicted he would touch the box. It was a solemn unity that held more sadness and yet more strength than I think I had ever felt in my life.

This war is costing military members and their families so much. And the rest of us? What is it costing us? Anything, other than tax dollars?

There was a spirit in this country after 9/11. We would have gladly given up anything to help--all of us. What were we told? To go shopping.

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