Iraq War Grief Daily Witness (photo) Day 112

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Still Alive
by John Bennett

My son sends a photo of him standing behind a sign that says "Bennett
Cemetery." He's way off, has a beard, but I can't make out his face. I pull the
magnifying glass from the drawer for a closer look-- yes, there he is.

My granddaughter, who has come to live with me, is there when this photo
arrives-- neither of us has seen him in years. She looks at the picture and
shrugs. "Who needs him?" she says, and goes into her room.

On the back of the picture he's scrawled: Still alive. He mailed it to a
mutual friend and had him carry it over to me. His reasoning, if I know him,
and I know him like the palm of my hand, was to keep me from reading the
postmark and getting a bead on his location. But his friend delivered the
sealed envelope in the envelope in which it had arrived--he's in North
Carolina.

A year ago he was in Orlando. Then Atlanta. He's moving up the eastern
seaboard.

I give warning to my relatives in Virginia via e-mail and then go sit on the
porch. My granddaughter comes out with her roller blades on, kisses me
on the cheek, and goes gliding down the sidewalk, all thirteen years of her.

I have long since lost the illusion of having control over anything.

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one way to support the troops
another way to support the troops
one way to support the Iraqi people
many other ways to support the troops and the Iraqi people
one way to support victims of torture
one way to witness every day