The war is one endless night
/Middle of the night is the worst. I wake now at 3 a.m., and hear the silence and think instantly about the noise on the other side of the world, and how lucky I am to be in my house, in my bed, safe. And how grateful I am that my son isn't over there. Or my daughters. These are my first thoughts. Then I think about other people's children, the faces I see in the paper and on TV - kids still - under all that protective gear, in harm's way, fighting an enemy no one understands.
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