In this season when we anticipate the birth of the Prince of Peace, this heartfelt poem by Sgt Sherrill expresses my own hope for the work that is going on in Afghanistan below the drones with the next generation - children so eager to learn and grow in whatever direction they are bent. What kind of education are they getting about the United States? Will the Central Asia Institute, Women for Afghan Women, other NGOs and the Sgt Sherrills of our military presence prevail or will the messages of the Taliban and our drones win the next generation? How will you participate in the outcome?
Behind the Wall
by Sgt. M. Douglas Sherrill, Jr.
I hear the voices behind the wall,
...
From my friend N.J.R.
Regarding the way things work......
Once upon a time there was a SAINTED but unsung hero who invented the shower. Boy, it didn't take long for that one to catch on! Soon, everybody was taking a shower, and our world was much improved. Then, another guy came along who modified the shower head to make the spray adjustable......... Hmmmmmm....that really was an improvement and everybody got the new shower head.
Along comes another guy who gets the idea to sex the whole thing up by inventing a pulsing shower head. Then, this whole thing evolved into the hot tub by putting the pulsing shower heads under water into an enlarged bath tub. Wow, that was popular too...and muy sexy. Then the conservationists got on board and the "water-saver" nozzles were invented, and that was better yet.
Well, THAT is how capitalism works....... and that is what has made America such a hugely productive economic engine. THEN...
On one of the calls my son made from college, I was a bit late in picking up the phone and, unbeknownst to either of us, the upstairs answering machine recorded the whole conversation. We chatted amiably about this and that and then I remembered that I had sent him vehicle registration papers that he needed to fill out and return by a certain date. As I told him this news, he said, “There you go again with that tone of voice, Mom,” a frequent complaint. And I protested as usual, “What tone of voice?” “That 'gotta make sure my kid handles this' parent tone of voice that says you don't trust me.”
I had no idea what he was talking about. I thought I was just emphasizing something important. I did think of him as responsible and thought I was just giving him a reminder.
As I was getting into bed that night, I saw the message machine blinking so I pressed the play button. I smiled, happily reliving our conversation until the part about the vehicle registration when there it was – “that tone of voice.” It did indeed sound like I did not trust him to do the job.
He came in the front door with a cheery “Hello!” looking spiffy in his business suit. His kids, wife, and I responded in kind. He set his brief case on a chair in the hall and came into the kitchen. In the space of one minute, he crossed the kitchen to his wife at the stove, gave her a noisy kiss, raised the cover on a simmering pot (“Ummm that smells wonderful!”), crossed the kitchen again to kiss me, said “Stay for supper. Be back soon,” and went upstairs.
When he came down 20 minutes later, he was dressed in casuals. We called the kids to dinner and had random conversation with them about the kids’ day at school and my friend's and my work in our gardens. After dinner, the kids were excused to do their homework. My friend said, “Abby and I were talking about all of us taking a trip to the Eastern Shore tomorrow.”
Oh, I'm sorry,” came his response, “but we have other commitments.”
“We do?” she asked, puzzled.
Christmas, a season that emphasizes family gatherings, may be especially difficult for those who are grieving the living.
My friend, a spiritually grounded apostate, got a letter from her born-again daughter disowning their relationship and forbidding my friend any contact with her or her family of two beloved teenaged grandchildren and her son-in-law.
Another friend lost her son to drugs and yet another grieves loss of contact with highly successful children who have moved far away, make no effort to stay in touch, and chat only briefly when she calls them.
A couple I’ve known since we started raising our kids together nurtures their two adult sons who are marginally making it because of mental health issues.
I myself grieved the end of a marriage – the triple loss of a parenting partner, a once friendly and intimate relationship, and a social role. As in my first friend’s case, divorcees too may lose beloved family members and friends - people who “don’t want to take sides” or don’t know how to handle a “third wheel” in their social scene.
