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threeplusfire) wrote2001-10-22 11:09 am
threeplusfire) wrote2001-10-22 11:09 am
the fires at night
I bought gas the other day for $1.019 a gallon. The last time gas was so cheap was early in my college career, back when that gas station opened by target near Westwood High. Back when I still early in my relationship with Patrick, driving out to Leander often. Strange that the gas is so cheap. I remember how the price shot up during the Gulf War, or at least my mother complaining about the prices when we stopped to fill the monsterous old Suburban she drove. That car was so recognizable.
I'm watching the burial for the first American soldier, the one killed in Omar. Air Force Master Sgt Evander Andrews. His family lined up on the green chairs in Arlington National Cemetary, the boy I suppose must be his sons, his parents, his wife. The older man is weeping, wiping his eyes with a white hankerchief. One of the boys does not sit, but stands by his mother.I think there may be three young boys. Are they all his sons, fatherless now? What a terrible, terrible time to be without a parent.
My mother told me of the one thng that made her cry during all of this. A service for a young woman, a soldier who died in the Pentagon on Spetember 11th. A well decorated general spoke, and stepped down to hand the folded flag from the coffin to a small girl. This child was the daughter of the soldier, and with her mother's death she was left without any surviving relatives. Where did she go? Who is taking care of this child now? My mother said it was so wrenching to see this tiny child accepting the flag fromt he stooped figure of the general. I wonder where she is.
Things like this are hard for me to acknowledge. They seem like something more of my parents' generation. I don't know how to react. It is comforting to know that my mother and I both mistrust the news.
I should go back to studying, since I'm not in class. Finished one anthto lab, only one more and a test to do this week. Must write some Czech pieces and practice grammar. Read for my other classes too.
I'm watching the burial for the first American soldier, the one killed in Omar. Air Force Master Sgt Evander Andrews. His family lined up on the green chairs in Arlington National Cemetary, the boy I suppose must be his sons, his parents, his wife. The older man is weeping, wiping his eyes with a white hankerchief. One of the boys does not sit, but stands by his mother.I think there may be three young boys. Are they all his sons, fatherless now? What a terrible, terrible time to be without a parent.
My mother told me of the one thng that made her cry during all of this. A service for a young woman, a soldier who died in the Pentagon on Spetember 11th. A well decorated general spoke, and stepped down to hand the folded flag from the coffin to a small girl. This child was the daughter of the soldier, and with her mother's death she was left without any surviving relatives. Where did she go? Who is taking care of this child now? My mother said it was so wrenching to see this tiny child accepting the flag fromt he stooped figure of the general. I wonder where she is.
Things like this are hard for me to acknowledge. They seem like something more of my parents' generation. I don't know how to react. It is comforting to know that my mother and I both mistrust the news.
I should go back to studying, since I'm not in class. Finished one anthto lab, only one more and a test to do this week. Must write some Czech pieces and practice grammar. Read for my other classes too.
no subject
Like I said, it's just a theory, but seems likely.
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