There was an article yesterday that the death toll of American soldiers in Iraq had reached 500. It has now surpassed that number. I've been thinking about this ever since I read the article and followed the link to the Washington Post's photos of all who have died. I've pondered whether I should add this entry because of the gravity. But, it's been on my mind ever since and if it's on my mind it usually finds its way here.
When Mike was in Iraq, I kept up on the lists on a regular basis because I was always fearful that his name, or maybe someone else I knew, would appear there. I haven't done it so much lately. But, just the same, it's not easy. It hurts my heart deeply to know that my life goes on as if nothing is wrong and these people are over there not knowing what lies ahead for them.
The pictures are poignant. However, the ones that impact me even more are the names without photos, just a sillhouette. I think because it represents anyone and everyone, or even the next one. Somebody's brother, son, daughter, father, mother, a random loved one of some kind, it doesn't matter. It's a life stopped too soon, a life that had meaning whether it be to one, or many.
Many will say 500, that's not much, considering. But, it's 500 too many, in my opinion, and it's not all. That's only the number of American soldiers who have died. That doesn't include American civilians, Allied Soldiers and civilians, nor does it include Iraqi military, or civilians. No matter who it was, what side of the line they stand on, his or her life had meaning to someone, somewhere.
I hope for the day that war will be an antiquated concept.