This picture shows my nephew (Davon about 10 years old), niece (Davon's sister Bianca 8 years old), my son (Yorel 3 1/2 years old), and my baby (Yazmin 1 1/2 years old). During the summer months when Davon and Bianca are out of school in Brooklyn, I let them come to New Jersey to spend the summer. We did this for 13 years and the only reason Davon and Bianca don't come to spend the summer is that Davon lives with us and Bianca is going to College next summer. They came out this past summer and we had a blast. We added to our group my 3 year old nephew (Dale) from my baby sister Sophia. During the last week in August both of my sisters come and stay for a week and when they leave they take their own children or child back home to start getting ready for the upcoming school year.
This picture brings back a lot of good memories of family time in the summers.
Wednesday, October 29, 2008
Blog #11
I went through my kitchen drawer and found my children's walkie talkie. It was the communication device we used to keep in touch when the kids were outside playing and they wanted to be independent from me. So my husband and I thought they were to young for cell phones and so we decided to get them walkie talkies. It worked great for about 2 years and then when they got to middle school they wanted to get cell phones.
The walkie talkies worked for a while and when I found the walkie talkie and showed it to the kids we just lauged and thought back to the walkie talkie era.
sue
The walkie talkies worked for a while and when I found the walkie talkie and showed it to the kids we just lauged and thought back to the walkie talkie era.
sue
Wednesday, October 22, 2008
Blog #10
I will do Essay #2 because it was helpful to reflect on my relationship with my mother. To me it was great to look back on the good times and bad times with my mother. And when my children become much older I will let them read it. Edgar gave me some good feed back on what to add. One of the things he said was to talk about a specific bad and good situation I had with my mother.
Monday, October 20, 2008
Blog #9 Essay 2 draft
"I am the MOTHER I wanted" by Suzanne
My mother and I had a ok relationship. I mean I can't remember a time that she hugged me or told me she loved me. I can remember her cooking for my sisters and I, washing our clothes, and dressing us up to go to Manhattan on Easter. Easter was the only time I can remember my mother going shipping and fussing over how her girls looked. Every year I would looked forward to Easter, because that connected me to some normalcy in my life. Easter is the time that my mother was like all the other of thousands of mothers in America that fussed with how their children would look on Easter. What was funny was that not until I became an adult did I realize that Easter was a religious day. A day people go to church and pay respect to a God. mean my mother, Mary did not take us to church or teach us about a "HIGHER POWER". Easter was when we got dressed up to go to Manhattan, eat at Nathan's (famous hot dog place), and come back home and watch the Ten Commandants on ABC. Out of all my memories of my mother that is the only one that sticks out, and it is because that is the only day I saw Mary as any other mother.
So many things came from my Easter experience with my mother. I hate to wear dresses because of that Easter experience. My mother made us girls dress up in dresses with ruffles every where, and sometimes a big bow on the back of the dress.
My sisters and I had to where a dress, black pattern leather shoes, and pantyhose that seemed to be to small for us. I hated that damn pantyhose because it seemed I spend the entire day pulling up that white pantyhose. It is funny the things you remember when you were a child. I still hate pantyhose, even now as an adult, now when I can choose my own color and size of pantyhose, I still will not wear one unless it is absolutely mandatory.
Now that I am a mother I understand my mother. Mary was born in Trinidad, West Indies and came to America in the 1970's (I don't know the exact date). Mary, my mother, was the oldest of 12 children and a lot was expected of her. One of the expecations was to be virgin at marriage. Mary did not live up to that expectation and I found that out when I saw my parents wedding photo in which Mary was 8 months pregnant with me. I know my parents liked eah other enough to have sex, but now I know they did not love each other enough to get married. Since my mother got pregnant the firsts time she had sex, she had to marry my father. Back then neither one had a choice in the matter and the wedding planning began so they can be married before my birth. Mary kept every thing in and simetimes I thought she did not even know how to defend herself. It was only when she came to America and away from my father and her parents Mary choose to get loose. Mary let loose so much that she became an alcoholic. Mary's drinking did not happen immediately, but it happened over years.
My father came to America 2 years after my mother arrived and the problems started. Those two years, a full time job and the ideal that women had rights in America encouraged my mother to do her own thing. But doing her own thing would have long lasting effects on my sisters and I. I think my mother drank to escape her life. As I said before my mother was very private and didn't talk about her problems and certainly never shared her feelings with her girls. I know that is why I talk to my children about everything. I have created an atmosphere in my relationship with my children that they can come to me and ask me anything. Some people don't agree with my openness but my memory of my silent childhood drowns out their comments. And I am always asking my children "how they feel". When I wa young and even know my family never asked me "how I feel". No one asked me how I felt about my parents divorce, or living with my father after the divorce, no one spoke to me about sex, about what I wanted to become when I got older, how to be an effective parent, how to be a good wife, how to accept myself for who I am. But now that I am the parent I ask and tell my kids all those previous things and more. I don't want my children to have only one memory of me being their mother. I want them to look back at their childhood and have numerous memories of me being their mother and loving them and telling them how much I love them and how much they improved my life. I want my kids to know their importance in my life. I necer know the importance I had in my mother's life until the end.
Mary died in December 1999 and her last three years was spent with my family. Previously from the time my parents got divorced until she moved in with us I did not have a relationship with my mother. I guessed I was mad and now that I was older I was upset with her that she did not fight for her girls.. It was 10 years or so that I had not interacted with my mother. I mean I went to my gradmother's and aunt's house and she was their, but it was like seeing a stranger at your family functions. My grandmother, and aunts (Mary's mother and sisters) all told me "you should go talk to your mother". But I felt that she was the parent not me so she should make the first move to come and tlk to me and not go get a drink. It was not until I had my own children that I realized how hard it is to be a good parent. To be a good parent you must heal your own issues. You must heal your pain so you can efffectively parent your child. My mother had a lot of issues that she did not heal. Those last three years did so much healing for me, but I don't know if Mary healed her pain. Just writing this makes me cry. I miss my mommy now and wish she can see how wonderful Yorel and Yazmin are. I wish she didn't some or drink then maybe we would have had more time. Mary loved my children with all her heart and she gave them the love she had for her own girls. And with her loving my kids as she did made me forgive her, I am not my mother's judge because I did not walk in her shoes but I am her daughter and with that alone I forgave her.
My mother and I had a ok relationship. I mean I can't remember a time that she hugged me or told me she loved me. I can remember her cooking for my sisters and I, washing our clothes, and dressing us up to go to Manhattan on Easter. Easter was the only time I can remember my mother going shipping and fussing over how her girls looked. Every year I would looked forward to Easter, because that connected me to some normalcy in my life. Easter is the time that my mother was like all the other of thousands of mothers in America that fussed with how their children would look on Easter. What was funny was that not until I became an adult did I realize that Easter was a religious day. A day people go to church and pay respect to a God. mean my mother, Mary did not take us to church or teach us about a "HIGHER POWER". Easter was when we got dressed up to go to Manhattan, eat at Nathan's (famous hot dog place), and come back home and watch the Ten Commandants on ABC. Out of all my memories of my mother that is the only one that sticks out, and it is because that is the only day I saw Mary as any other mother.
So many things came from my Easter experience with my mother. I hate to wear dresses because of that Easter experience. My mother made us girls dress up in dresses with ruffles every where, and sometimes a big bow on the back of the dress.
My sisters and I had to where a dress, black pattern leather shoes, and pantyhose that seemed to be to small for us. I hated that damn pantyhose because it seemed I spend the entire day pulling up that white pantyhose. It is funny the things you remember when you were a child. I still hate pantyhose, even now as an adult, now when I can choose my own color and size of pantyhose, I still will not wear one unless it is absolutely mandatory.
Now that I am a mother I understand my mother. Mary was born in Trinidad, West Indies and came to America in the 1970's (I don't know the exact date). Mary, my mother, was the oldest of 12 children and a lot was expected of her. One of the expecations was to be virgin at marriage. Mary did not live up to that expectation and I found that out when I saw my parents wedding photo in which Mary was 8 months pregnant with me. I know my parents liked eah other enough to have sex, but now I know they did not love each other enough to get married. Since my mother got pregnant the firsts time she had sex, she had to marry my father. Back then neither one had a choice in the matter and the wedding planning began so they can be married before my birth. Mary kept every thing in and simetimes I thought she did not even know how to defend herself. It was only when she came to America and away from my father and her parents Mary choose to get loose. Mary let loose so much that she became an alcoholic. Mary's drinking did not happen immediately, but it happened over years.
My father came to America 2 years after my mother arrived and the problems started. Those two years, a full time job and the ideal that women had rights in America encouraged my mother to do her own thing. But doing her own thing would have long lasting effects on my sisters and I. I think my mother drank to escape her life. As I said before my mother was very private and didn't talk about her problems and certainly never shared her feelings with her girls. I know that is why I talk to my children about everything. I have created an atmosphere in my relationship with my children that they can come to me and ask me anything. Some people don't agree with my openness but my memory of my silent childhood drowns out their comments. And I am always asking my children "how they feel". When I wa young and even know my family never asked me "how I feel". No one asked me how I felt about my parents divorce, or living with my father after the divorce, no one spoke to me about sex, about what I wanted to become when I got older, how to be an effective parent, how to be a good wife, how to accept myself for who I am. But now that I am the parent I ask and tell my kids all those previous things and more. I don't want my children to have only one memory of me being their mother. I want them to look back at their childhood and have numerous memories of me being their mother and loving them and telling them how much I love them and how much they improved my life. I want my kids to know their importance in my life. I necer know the importance I had in my mother's life until the end.
Mary died in December 1999 and her last three years was spent with my family. Previously from the time my parents got divorced until she moved in with us I did not have a relationship with my mother. I guessed I was mad and now that I was older I was upset with her that she did not fight for her girls.. It was 10 years or so that I had not interacted with my mother. I mean I went to my gradmother's and aunt's house and she was their, but it was like seeing a stranger at your family functions. My grandmother, and aunts (Mary's mother and sisters) all told me "you should go talk to your mother". But I felt that she was the parent not me so she should make the first move to come and tlk to me and not go get a drink. It was not until I had my own children that I realized how hard it is to be a good parent. To be a good parent you must heal your own issues. You must heal your pain so you can efffectively parent your child. My mother had a lot of issues that she did not heal. Those last three years did so much healing for me, but I don't know if Mary healed her pain. Just writing this makes me cry. I miss my mommy now and wish she can see how wonderful Yorel and Yazmin are. I wish she didn't some or drink then maybe we would have had more time. Mary loved my children with all her heart and she gave them the love she had for her own girls. And with her loving my kids as she did made me forgive her, I am not my mother's judge because I did not walk in her shoes but I am her daughter and with that alone I forgave her.
Tuesday, October 14, 2008
Blog #8
My second essay will be about my MOTHER. The mother I am to my children is the mother I wished I had. I am not saying my mother was a bad parent, but I have learned to forgive her and I realize in life "you are what you learn".
My mother was raised in a time when women had no voice, and they did what they were told. But I realize that when you have your own children, you understand your parents better.
Before my mother died, we had closure and I am glad that happened. I love my mom and she greatly influenced the woman, and mother I am today.
My mother was raised in a time when women had no voice, and they did what they were told. But I realize that when you have your own children, you understand your parents better.
Before my mother died, we had closure and I am glad that happened. I love my mom and she greatly influenced the woman, and mother I am today.
Blog #7
The thing that went well with my first essay was the ability to put on paper my memories. The ease in which I wrote my experiences. And it made me smile, when I realized how much I have changed from the person who experienced those events.
I need to put the essay in chronological order and connect my focal point.
My next essay I will try to be more reflective.
I need to put the essay in chronological order and connect my focal point.
My next essay I will try to be more reflective.
Sunday, October 5, 2008
Essay Draft #1 (After the Labor Pain....)
After the labor pain, I looked at both of my children with complete amazement. They both came from the love Leroy (my then boyfriend) and I shared. I looked at my son, the oldest, the first child I carried and asked my self "where did the time go"? The 15 years went by so fast but yet slow and now look at him a strong and handsome high schooler. His name is Yorel, which is Leroy backwards and he looks just like his father but has my personality. Yorel is driven, intelligent, extremely focused, love all sports, and does not easily welcome new people in his life. And then their is my Yazmin, my second born, which means sunshine/flower in Arabic. We (Leroy and I) were looking for a name that started with the letter "Y". Yazmin is a breath of sunshine in our family. She lookes like me but has Leroy's personality. Yazmin is intelligent, very friendly, loves playing her musical instruments (flute, clarinet, Alto Sax), loves to dance, and a joy to be around. Her 1st grade teacher, Ms Erickson, said at a school conference that " Yazy is a social butterfly" and that statement is so true. I really enjoy these 2 people who makes me laugh, scream, threaten them, hug, warn, and just love unconditionally. After the labor pain, I am more in love than ever before with these two wonderful people.
After the labor pain, I am holding my son. A long 21 inch, 7lb 14 oz baby boy that is screaming at me and trying to grab my left nipple with his mouth. But 13 hours eariler you were the cause of my unbearable pain and worry. Thirteen hours eariler I woke up to a wet bed. In my dream I was on the toilet so when I woke to a wet bet, I thought I had an accident. But even though I contracted my vaginal muscles, there still was leaking. OH MY GOD, I thought to myself my water broke. I screamed to my sister "my water broke, my water broke get a towel". Sophia (my baby sister) ran to the hallway closet and brought back the biggest, thickest towel in there. I fold the towel up and put it between my legs. I also told Sophia "call Leroy and tell him to meet us at St. Peter's Hospital". Yes, I am having a baby and not married. I lived with my father and baby sister in Piscataway and Leroy lived with his mother and 3 younger siblings in East Orange. Leroy and I enjoyed a healthy sex life but did not plan on becoming parents. But when we got pregnant we decided to keep the baby. Leroy's mother was more concerned with our unmarried situation than my liberal father. I feel my father was more liberal about my single motherhood because my middle sister already had 2 children and was not married. Even though Leroy's 5 older brothers and sisters each had kids but only one was married and divorced. With this information it was hard for me to believe that Leroy's mother was concerned with our unmarried situation and or she just did not like me. The latter proved to be true. Any way with this family drama I chose to stay clear of negitive people and have my baby. So now at St. Peter's Hosiptal and heading up to my room in labor and delivery. It's now 2pm and still no sign of Leroy, and my doctor. The intern came in to check how far along I was. He put on his gloves and put his whole hand up my vagina. The only part of his arm I could see was his elbow. The intern said I was 4cm and could not give me any drugs until I was 5 cm. I asked "how long would that be", he said "he really did not know"? Then I asked if he heard from Dr. Nawanna (my OB/GYN), the intern said "no". Now its 2 hours since my water broke, no Leroy, no Dr. Nawanna, I am in great pain and I am also worried about the baby getting an infection (the umblic fluid protects the baby from infection and since my fluid is leaking out of me the baby might get an infection). Four o'clock and the intern came back in and lost his hand in my vigina. He said "5cm, you can get your Epidermal now". Thank God , I thought. Six o'clock got my epidermal and the pain is their but not as bad, and now walk in Dr. Nawanna. He lost his hand in my vagina also. Eight o'clock Leroy came bearing balloons, flowers and a suitcase. I asked him "why a suitcase"? Leroy said, "he is coming home with me and our baby, he does not want to miss any part of this baby's life." I was happy but did not know how my father would feel about our new roomate. My hospital room was standing room only. Sophia, her boyfriend (Sean), my father, my mother (my parents are divorced), and now Leroy were in my hospital room. It was like a party with food and sodas, but I was in bed with great pain. At midnight the Dr. Nawanna came in and he said "the baby's heart rate is increasing so we might have to have a c-section". I got scared. Dr. Nawanna said "it is good that you already had the epidermal, so lets move you in to the operation room". I grabbed Leroy's hand and told him "you have to come too". The party like atmosphere came to a quick end and everyone hugged and kissed me and told me don't worry every thing will be alright. In the operating room, a blue curtian like cover blocking me from lower half. All I can remember is the Doctor telling me to stop moving then they put restrants on me and I lost all memory of what happened. When I came to, I was holding this beautiful baby boy. After the labor pain, I was holding my son.
After the labor pain, I was holding my daughter. Yazmin's birth was not as complicated as Yorel's birth. Dr. Nawanna wanted me to have a natural birth. Her due date was on Thanksgiving and Dr. Nawanna would be on a family trip. The three of us (my husband, myself, and the doctor) discussed it and we decided to set a date, come in and have my baby. Yes, my husband, Leroy and I decided to get married six months after Yorel was born. Mulenberg was the hospital that Yazmin was born in. We left Yorel with Sophia (my baby sister) then Leroy and I went to the hospital. My pre-admission was already in the computer and they took me straight upstairs. Dr. Nawanna was informed I had arrived and was closing his office because after my delivery he would start his holiday trip. The nurse administered my IV and in the IV was medicine to start my labor. Two hours later I was ready to push. The nurse said "Dr. Nawanna was just downstairs and on his way up to my room". I said to the nurse, "I have to push, I have to push". Dr. Nawanna ran into the room and said "go ahead and push". I pushed and their was Yazmin. But she was not scream, as a baby leaving her old home and entering her new one. The pediatrician grabbed Yazmin and placed her on the neonatal table and put a needle in her heart (remember, I seeing this from a druged up view). Then I heard my baby cry, that was such a sound of relief to any parent. The nurse cleaned her, wrapped her up in a baby blanket, and handed her to me. After the labor pain, I was holding my daughter.
After the labor pain, I have an ever changing, ever evolving loving marriage that has its good and bad times. Like when we had to decide whether to live Piscataway or East Orange, but Piscataway won. A marriage that lead to one parent working 2 full time jobs ( police officer, and gym teacher) and the other being a stay at home mom. A marriage that is full of compromise whether forced or suggested. A marriage that made 2 people grow up and accept what they can't change and change what they can. A marriage that always puts the children's needs ahead of their own. A marriage that tests the love between a man and a women. A marriage that looks at the big picture rather than the individual photo. A marriage that time and time again ignores outsiders. A marriage that I love and if I had to do all over again I gladly would. A marriage that still needs work but is willing to do that work. A marriage that keeps the relationship between a husband and wife interesting and creative. After the labor pain, I have an ever changing, ever evolving loving marriage that has its good and bad times.
After the labor pain, I look at myself and ask " is this who I intended to be"? I don't know. As a child no one asked me "what do I want to be when I grow up"? It was implied that I would be a wife and mother. The older I became I asked myself , "is that it"? "What about me"? Yazmin was in the 3rd grade and I had a discussion with Leroy about me going back to school. He was hesitant at first, but then when I made my point he understood. I started at Middlesex County College and completed it. Then I transferred to Kean University. Now I have something just for me and that makes me happy. After the labor pain, I love myself.
After the labor pain, I have Yorel, Yazmin, a loving marriage, and I am in love with myself.
After the labor pain, I am holding my son. A long 21 inch, 7lb 14 oz baby boy that is screaming at me and trying to grab my left nipple with his mouth. But 13 hours eariler you were the cause of my unbearable pain and worry. Thirteen hours eariler I woke up to a wet bed. In my dream I was on the toilet so when I woke to a wet bet, I thought I had an accident. But even though I contracted my vaginal muscles, there still was leaking. OH MY GOD, I thought to myself my water broke. I screamed to my sister "my water broke, my water broke get a towel". Sophia (my baby sister) ran to the hallway closet and brought back the biggest, thickest towel in there. I fold the towel up and put it between my legs. I also told Sophia "call Leroy and tell him to meet us at St. Peter's Hospital". Yes, I am having a baby and not married. I lived with my father and baby sister in Piscataway and Leroy lived with his mother and 3 younger siblings in East Orange. Leroy and I enjoyed a healthy sex life but did not plan on becoming parents. But when we got pregnant we decided to keep the baby. Leroy's mother was more concerned with our unmarried situation than my liberal father. I feel my father was more liberal about my single motherhood because my middle sister already had 2 children and was not married. Even though Leroy's 5 older brothers and sisters each had kids but only one was married and divorced. With this information it was hard for me to believe that Leroy's mother was concerned with our unmarried situation and or she just did not like me. The latter proved to be true. Any way with this family drama I chose to stay clear of negitive people and have my baby. So now at St. Peter's Hosiptal and heading up to my room in labor and delivery. It's now 2pm and still no sign of Leroy, and my doctor. The intern came in to check how far along I was. He put on his gloves and put his whole hand up my vagina. The only part of his arm I could see was his elbow. The intern said I was 4cm and could not give me any drugs until I was 5 cm. I asked "how long would that be", he said "he really did not know"? Then I asked if he heard from Dr. Nawanna (my OB/GYN), the intern said "no". Now its 2 hours since my water broke, no Leroy, no Dr. Nawanna, I am in great pain and I am also worried about the baby getting an infection (the umblic fluid protects the baby from infection and since my fluid is leaking out of me the baby might get an infection). Four o'clock and the intern came back in and lost his hand in my vigina. He said "5cm, you can get your Epidermal now". Thank God , I thought. Six o'clock got my epidermal and the pain is their but not as bad, and now walk in Dr. Nawanna. He lost his hand in my vagina also. Eight o'clock Leroy came bearing balloons, flowers and a suitcase. I asked him "why a suitcase"? Leroy said, "he is coming home with me and our baby, he does not want to miss any part of this baby's life." I was happy but did not know how my father would feel about our new roomate. My hospital room was standing room only. Sophia, her boyfriend (Sean), my father, my mother (my parents are divorced), and now Leroy were in my hospital room. It was like a party with food and sodas, but I was in bed with great pain. At midnight the Dr. Nawanna came in and he said "the baby's heart rate is increasing so we might have to have a c-section". I got scared. Dr. Nawanna said "it is good that you already had the epidermal, so lets move you in to the operation room". I grabbed Leroy's hand and told him "you have to come too". The party like atmosphere came to a quick end and everyone hugged and kissed me and told me don't worry every thing will be alright. In the operating room, a blue curtian like cover blocking me from lower half. All I can remember is the Doctor telling me to stop moving then they put restrants on me and I lost all memory of what happened. When I came to, I was holding this beautiful baby boy. After the labor pain, I was holding my son.
After the labor pain, I was holding my daughter. Yazmin's birth was not as complicated as Yorel's birth. Dr. Nawanna wanted me to have a natural birth. Her due date was on Thanksgiving and Dr. Nawanna would be on a family trip. The three of us (my husband, myself, and the doctor) discussed it and we decided to set a date, come in and have my baby. Yes, my husband, Leroy and I decided to get married six months after Yorel was born. Mulenberg was the hospital that Yazmin was born in. We left Yorel with Sophia (my baby sister) then Leroy and I went to the hospital. My pre-admission was already in the computer and they took me straight upstairs. Dr. Nawanna was informed I had arrived and was closing his office because after my delivery he would start his holiday trip. The nurse administered my IV and in the IV was medicine to start my labor. Two hours later I was ready to push. The nurse said "Dr. Nawanna was just downstairs and on his way up to my room". I said to the nurse, "I have to push, I have to push". Dr. Nawanna ran into the room and said "go ahead and push". I pushed and their was Yazmin. But she was not scream, as a baby leaving her old home and entering her new one. The pediatrician grabbed Yazmin and placed her on the neonatal table and put a needle in her heart (remember, I seeing this from a druged up view). Then I heard my baby cry, that was such a sound of relief to any parent. The nurse cleaned her, wrapped her up in a baby blanket, and handed her to me. After the labor pain, I was holding my daughter.
After the labor pain, I have an ever changing, ever evolving loving marriage that has its good and bad times. Like when we had to decide whether to live Piscataway or East Orange, but Piscataway won. A marriage that lead to one parent working 2 full time jobs ( police officer, and gym teacher) and the other being a stay at home mom. A marriage that is full of compromise whether forced or suggested. A marriage that made 2 people grow up and accept what they can't change and change what they can. A marriage that always puts the children's needs ahead of their own. A marriage that tests the love between a man and a women. A marriage that looks at the big picture rather than the individual photo. A marriage that time and time again ignores outsiders. A marriage that I love and if I had to do all over again I gladly would. A marriage that still needs work but is willing to do that work. A marriage that keeps the relationship between a husband and wife interesting and creative. After the labor pain, I have an ever changing, ever evolving loving marriage that has its good and bad times.
After the labor pain, I look at myself and ask " is this who I intended to be"? I don't know. As a child no one asked me "what do I want to be when I grow up"? It was implied that I would be a wife and mother. The older I became I asked myself , "is that it"? "What about me"? Yazmin was in the 3rd grade and I had a discussion with Leroy about me going back to school. He was hesitant at first, but then when I made my point he understood. I started at Middlesex County College and completed it. Then I transferred to Kean University. Now I have something just for me and that makes me happy. After the labor pain, I love myself.
After the labor pain, I have Yorel, Yazmin, a loving marriage, and I am in love with myself.
Wednesday, October 1, 2008
Blog #7
After reading this essay, I want to honor the men and women who put their life on the line for my freedom. I would expect each country feels that way about their soilders, but to me it is so much more. I also think it is a love story of country. Also I want to say that WAR should always be the very, very, very last option. This essay made me think (when he said he/Rat wrote the friend's sister and Rat poured his heart out in the letter, and she never wrote him back) how do we as a society treat our war heros? Because they are all heros, in my eyes.
sue
sue
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