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March 20, 2003

Tears, Idle Tears

Though I have a really great family, composed of really amazing people, I didn’t have the most stable upbringing. We moved, and then my mother moved in and out a handful of times before she finally left for good and my brother and I gasped, left in the whirlwind of it all, supposed to come and go between our parents, which he did much more faithfully and willingly than me.

The night the first Gulf War began was a strange time. I was a junior, settled down a bit from my rough and rowdy first few years of high school, and my brother was staying with us around that time (which seems unusual, looking back.) I was watching the news that night, already knowing what was going to happen, but full of disbelief and hope in the way that only an idealistic 16 year-old can be. Of course it began, the war, with missiles and indiscernible footage and sand and green streaks across the black night sky and words I’d never heard before like “scud” and “tomahawk missile.” I had been on the verge of tears before, but not in an uncontrollable way. It all just seemed so distant and impossible and not romantic at all. It didn’t seem like it could happen in my lifetime.

My sweet baby brother came over to comfort me. It’s the last memory I have of him being “young.” He hugged me and said, “It’ll be alright, Tam.” And then I lost it, all at once tear-faced, runny nose and heaving sobs. I wanted to believe what he said, and he wanted me to as well, but I knew better.

I can’t believe this is happening now, again. Everything is different now, the world and I are very much changed, and I’m still feeling like a shaky high schooler who will collapse in a heap at any moment. And I’ve used up all my words and arguments, as well as much of the anger that helped sustain me when I was younger, and have nothing left but sadness.

Posted by pogo at March 20, 2003 11:21 AM