It has been 2 years and 2 months since my son Jason was killed in Iraq. 2 years. For many, I should be over this, life does go on doesn't it?
For 2 years, I have fought to get Jason's name, Jason's story out there. In some ways, it has been a formidable task because Jason was Wiccan, and so many do not understand Wicca, nor my more Native ways. I fight and battle the assumptions about him, that as a soldier he followed blindly, that he was a Christian, that he fought for our Freedom. For anyone new to Jason, he voiced his opinion, he was Wiccan, and he died his men--not you, not me, simply his men.
For two years, as I have sought to get his name out there, I have struggled with ways to reinvent him, in a sense, for those who have been with me from day 1. I want people to keep getting to know Jason, and not hear the same stories, or attributes about how kind, tolerant, and humble he was. Jason was stoic, he had a dry sense of humor, he loved video games, and he loved to write. Jason was a complicated person, whose final months were not that happy in his personal life. But, he was a solider, a mere enlisted man who told his colonels how it should be done and why it should be done. They listened, but with tied hands.
For 2 years, I have laid in bed each night, recounting my son's final moments. I have the Final Report committed to memory. I almost have a photographic memory on things I chose to remember, and boy, did his fellow soldiers, the Army let him down. You can be the best, but if you are the best, and not a Christian....
There isn't a day, a moment that passes that I do not just think of Jason, but of my son Ben. I told Ben I knew he was going to Iraq, I had foreseen it in a dream, a premonition. But, he knew I knew. I always know. My sons can fool others, but they cannot fool me. Each day, I anticipate I might hear a knock on my door, a call, a something telling me something has happened to him too. You have it happen once, you know it can again. Lightening can and does strike in the place, area, more than once.
Everyday, I check the news where Ben is, the web sites for the base in Iraq and the base here. When I hear something has happened to a soldier, I investigate even though I know I would know, as I did with Jason.
For 2 years, I have been full of lies. No, I am not alright. I am broken, my heart is shattered, my soul is dead. I am disgusted by those with former legal ties to Jason who, out of pure narcissism, use his death to solicit pity, use his death for financial gain, use his death to put themselves on a pedestal. Someday, Karma will ring that person's bell, loud and very hard.
I am still so angry. I am still so hurt, and I still simply refuse to accept this. To me, this is the Underworld masquerading as reality. 2 years and 2 months of hell, of lying about how 'good" I am, of pretense. I am sick of it!
And, I think Jason was left to die in his humvee. They only checked on him 20 minutes afterwards, after they airlifted the others out and had secured the area. 20 minutes in a burning vehicle, and then they did not take him out of it for 2 days.