01VIPERGTS/ACR
Full Access Member
Well, don’t I feel like damned fool. Ever since the start of the war in Iraq, I have been praying for those who have lost sons, daughters, spouses, brothers, best friends, hoping that they can somehow find a moment of respite from their grief.
And all along, it was you, Laura, and your husband who were the most grief-stricken of all. “No one suffers more than their president and I do when we watch this, and certainly the commander in chief, who has asked our military to go into harm's way.â€
There, there, Laura; if only you had spoken up sooner, instead of hiding your heartbreak behind that well-coiffed, well-groomed, well-clothed façade, we might have been able to help you cope with your pain – which, as you have now pointed out, surpasses that of any other American.
We lowly peons probably can’t begin to appreciate the anguish you live with, day in and day out, as soldiers die for lack of the body armor and other life-saving equipment your husband denied them. How excruciating it must be to see young men and women cut down in the prime of life, all based on your husband’s lies. How horrifying to hear about hundreds of thousands of dead Iraqis, especially the children, knowing that none of this ever had to happen were it not for your husband’s deceit, his arrogance, his abject stupidity.
It must prey on your mind, Laura; as you watch your daughters, safe and sound, making fools of themselves in public, as you listen to your husband’s drunken, meandering speeches about a victory we all know will never come, as you socialize with the war-profiteers who are stuffing their pockets while wounded soldiers are denied basic medical care and suitable disability pensions.
We’ll never know how many gourmet dinners you only picked at, your appetite having been lost due to endless sorrow. We’ll never know how many shopping trips for gowns and jewelry were cut short as you broke down in sobs, unable to be comforted. We’ll never know how many cocktail parties and galas you were forced to attend for appearances’ sake, all the while hiding your anguish behind that smile, that laughter, that vacuous look in your eyes.
And even in your grief, you selflessly think of your husband’s burden, “the worry that's on his shoulders every single day for our troops.†You worry that the public doesn’t see the enormous weight ever-present on his mind: “I think if they don't, they're not seeing what the real responsibilities of our president are.â€
Well, rest assured that we do know what the responsibilities of the president are – especially being responsible for sending our troops into harm’s way without a plan, without a strategy, without regard to their well-being, without even a reason as to why this war was ever started in the first place.
So the next time I see a woman crying at the graveside of her fallen husband, or watch a man sobbing uncontrollably because he has lost his only son, I will remember that their suffering is just a pittance as compared to yours – because no one suffers more than you, Laura. No one.
And all along, it was you, Laura, and your husband who were the most grief-stricken of all. “No one suffers more than their president and I do when we watch this, and certainly the commander in chief, who has asked our military to go into harm's way.â€
There, there, Laura; if only you had spoken up sooner, instead of hiding your heartbreak behind that well-coiffed, well-groomed, well-clothed façade, we might have been able to help you cope with your pain – which, as you have now pointed out, surpasses that of any other American.
We lowly peons probably can’t begin to appreciate the anguish you live with, day in and day out, as soldiers die for lack of the body armor and other life-saving equipment your husband denied them. How excruciating it must be to see young men and women cut down in the prime of life, all based on your husband’s lies. How horrifying to hear about hundreds of thousands of dead Iraqis, especially the children, knowing that none of this ever had to happen were it not for your husband’s deceit, his arrogance, his abject stupidity.
It must prey on your mind, Laura; as you watch your daughters, safe and sound, making fools of themselves in public, as you listen to your husband’s drunken, meandering speeches about a victory we all know will never come, as you socialize with the war-profiteers who are stuffing their pockets while wounded soldiers are denied basic medical care and suitable disability pensions.
We’ll never know how many gourmet dinners you only picked at, your appetite having been lost due to endless sorrow. We’ll never know how many shopping trips for gowns and jewelry were cut short as you broke down in sobs, unable to be comforted. We’ll never know how many cocktail parties and galas you were forced to attend for appearances’ sake, all the while hiding your anguish behind that smile, that laughter, that vacuous look in your eyes.
And even in your grief, you selflessly think of your husband’s burden, “the worry that's on his shoulders every single day for our troops.†You worry that the public doesn’t see the enormous weight ever-present on his mind: “I think if they don't, they're not seeing what the real responsibilities of our president are.â€
Well, rest assured that we do know what the responsibilities of the president are – especially being responsible for sending our troops into harm’s way without a plan, without a strategy, without regard to their well-being, without even a reason as to why this war was ever started in the first place.
So the next time I see a woman crying at the graveside of her fallen husband, or watch a man sobbing uncontrollably because he has lost his only son, I will remember that their suffering is just a pittance as compared to yours – because no one suffers more than you, Laura. No one.
