Cry havoc and let slip the dogs of war

Dear Ravi,

I slept in this morning while Daddy went to his welding class. I got up, fed the pets, made coffee and let Nikki make biscuits on my chest. I could feel his purr thrumming through my body. I was feeling relaxed until I opened laptop. I did not have it on my bingo card for our country, along with Israel, to attack Iran under the cover of darkness.

Ravi, your daddy lived in Iran in 1972. It was a very different place then, and he greatly enjoyed his time there. It was a bright spot in his childhood. I love hearing his stories from that era. We are peacemakers, you, me, and your daddy. I took you to antiwar protests in a front pack when you were not even old enough to crawl. Being a peacemaker was part of your identity. You were born to accompany me to protests, to speak out against the war machine. We know that there are so many better things that our country can do besides wage war. We can use that money to fight disease, to improve our schools, to have better mental and physical health care, to have flourishing libraries, and to dwell in a country where no one has to worry about food, or rent, or astronomical health care bills. We call America the land of the free. How are we free when others are oppressed? An elementary school full of young girls was attacked in Iran today. Those children were innocent of any wrongdoing, and their blood is on the hands of our government. I weep for the loss of life and the loss of innocence. I weep for mothers and fathers who have to bury their children. No parent should have to bury their child.

Ravi, I am at a loss for words. I cannot understand this wanton destruction. I am also seeing a pattern. When our president attacks another country, it is done under the cover of darkness on a Friday night. War is started when Congress is not in session and the stock market has closed for the weekend. There is a definite trend here. The president does not have the power to declare war, only Congress can do that. This president is a madman and does not care about laws, the Constitution, or any former precedents. Though I miss you deeply, grieve you deeply, I am glad you are not around to witness these atrocities.

So, where do I go from here? I will go to St. Clement’s: I will go to my community. Tomorrow, I will teach a Sunday school lesson on planting seeds of kindness. I will ask my little group how they showed kindness in the last week. I will give them potting soil and Solo cups, and we will plant seeds of our own, to nurture and watch them grow. I will stop in the chapel and talk to you. I will once again remind myself to look for goodness and love in my neighborhood, and the world around me. Your father and I will continue to do Costco runs to Bridge View School. We will not give up hope. We will work and pray for peace. Ravi, you were a peaceful person, and we continue this work in your memory. Please continue to pray for all “victims of hunger, fear, and oppression.” Until we meet again. Love, Mom.