The Beautiful Boy

I remember, he was born into the darkest part of winter when ice and wind become a knife edge to the heart.  He was so eager to be here that he broke a collarbone and had to be swaddled extra tight.  The tiniest of blue bundles.  His arrival coinciding with the anniversary of my dad's death.  How I wanted him to carry part of that legacy or at least his name to reclaim that day for a joyful purpose.  But no.  Naming was not my choice and his mother insisted on cookie cutter sameness such that he would always be one of many with the same name.  Such is the way of things. 

This amazing ball of energy and charisma was branded an instigator and troublemaker by that same mother.  But, I think it more likely that she never really understood this charismatic, happy, active little boy.  Nor did she give him adequate room to express all of who he is.  He was not compliant and quiet like his older brother, a child she understood only marginally better.  He was the scapegoat for anything that happened and he bore this all stoically only to ask me later why it was like that.  To that I had no answer, but a shrug. 

This child, this broccoli-pault inventor, could have been anything.  The visions of his possible futures swirled about him in his infancy like cotton candy.  President...CEO....Fireman.....Cattle rancher....Entrepneur....Banker.....Athlete.  Eventually most of those would sink back into the mist until one was predominant - Soldier.  I mourned the loss of those other possibilities from the world.  I hated the danger that choice would place him in from its inception.  But my brother cultivated ONLY this possibility until it became inevitable.  The Beautiful Boy would become a soldier. 

The Beautiful Boy is happy in this regimented life, has honed his body into a weapon of war and has marhsalled his sizeable charisma and intellect toward leadership.  I am happy that he is happy.  This week the Beautiful Boy landed in Afghanistan with his men and I hit my knees to pray to any and all goddesses that would listen to keep him safe, to keep all the Beautiful Boys and Girls safe and end this wretched senseless thing. 


PS - Why goddess and not god you ask?  Simple.  Because a male god is willing to sacrifice his beautiful children in a way a mother goddess never would.