I can't presume to know how Cindy Sheehan feels. I'm a parent. I have one that left for college a year ago, and another that will a year from now. But they're both still alive. I've lost a parent who I was very close with. But that's not a child. I can't imagine the pain of losing a child. I don't even think I have a frame of reference for the grief she has. The grief any parent would know at the loss of a child.
Vengeance is the most eternal grief. I haven't seen vengeance from her. I've seen anger, and compassion and grace. She's entitled to her anger. She has articulated it far better than I could dare to do. She has shown her compassion and grace in asking, demanding answers to questions that will never bring her son back. That's not possible. She has laid herself out, for the entire world to see. Laid herself out for the most vile of ridicule. And the only possible benefit she will get is the knowledge that somehow, some way, what she is doing may save a life. It may spare another parent, or spouse, or child the grief she knows. For their good, not hers. For the good of the country.
A most selfless act of heroism.
The acts of a most ordinary mother.
The acts of a most extraordinary patriot.