Sunday, March 19, 2006
Here it is again, March 19th. Three years since George Dubya decided to play his dirty little games in Iraq. I should have been able to call the date when this would begin, based on dates significant in my dad's life.
Joe (or JB as we called him) was born on a day that seemed innocent enough, December 7th. Only then in 1941, that day took on a new significance: the raid on Pearl Harbor. And of course, that meant one thing to the Americans -- the time had come for them to enter the war.
Later on, once he was home from flying big bombers over Africa and Italy, I came along and he married my mom. What day would that have been? September 11th. No further explanation required.
So in 2003, when GWB was tossing around his WMD crapola, I figured he'd start his attack on February 28th. Why? Because that's the date my dad died. It seemed to go along with all the other weird significant dates in his life.
So when that date came and passed, I almost thought all those peace prayers and marches had worked. That maybe it wouldn't happen after all.
But as we all know, that hope disappeared. And wouldn't you know it, whose feast day is celebrated today? Who else, but JB's namesake, St. Joseph.
Maybe by next year February 28th will take on a new significance. I'd like to think it could be the day when there's a declaration of peace. That would somehow close this odd little circle of weird dates for me. Fingers crossed.