My cousin Gerald is over in Iraq. I don’t know where, exactly. He fought in the Gulf War as well. I haven’t seen his sister, my cousin Brigid, in a while even though she lives in Manhattan, so I do not know what he is up to. He is high-up in the military, had been the assistant to the head of NATO, speaks Turkish, all that. I saw the now-famous photograph of the big Marine, with glasses on, sitting on the ground, holding a little pink-clad Iraqi girl in his arms. The photograph reminded me of Gerald. Something in the face, the largeness of his frame.
My thoughts and prayers are with Gerald every day. With his mother, watching and waiting from home, and all his brothers and sisters.
