While George golfed yesterday, the worst hurricane ever struck New Orleans; oil went up to over $68/barrel; and an American soldier was killed in the charade and cataclysmic occupation of Iraq. The soldier's family doesn't even know what's going to hit them yet. The death is "Pending Notification." I continually ask myself: "How do George Bush and other death-mongers live with themselves?" While George vacations and bikes and golfs his way to the lowest poll numbers since Richard Nixon, other "patriots" are wrapping themselves in the Stars and Stripes and going along with the farce that the mission from hell -- killing more people in Iraq, because so many have already been killed -- is somehow a good thing ordained by God. I can live with myself, but trust me, sleep does not come easily to me these days.
Yesterday at Camp Casey was again, naturally, an amazing day. Dennis Means from the A.I.M. came with a group of Native American musicians and they made a presentation to me. He gave me a shawl in the tradition of Tecumseh and he pinned a brooch of 5 stars on it from "one chief to another." He also said we should all change our last names to Sheehan and he will be known as: Dennis Means Sheehan! Sheehan is Gaelic for "Peace" which I think is such a cool thing, and not a coincidence. Casey Sheehan's sacrifice will stand for peace forever.
I missed the candlelight vigil at Camp Casey I last night, but I heard that the counter-protestors came over and held vigil with us for our killed heroes. I heard it was beautiful and life-affirming. This is what Camp Casey does for us: it transforms bitter anger into righteous, productive anger. It turns hate into love. It brings people together in new love and cements mature relationships. It brings other people together who would normally not ever meet and makes them lifelong soul-friends. It heals broken hearts and mends broken souls. I know Camp Casey has healed my broken soul and heart. A veteran from the Iraq tragedy told me that he is now cured of any bad feelings he had.
Just another day at Camp Casey.
I must admit when I sat down in the ditch on August 6th, I thought to myself: "Self, what the hell did you do? Texas in August? A ditch filled with fire ants, rattlesnakes, and chiggers? Pooping in a bucket? Dodging lightening bolts and heat exhaustion?" But I knew I would have to suffer it through to the end. I knew that the people of Iraq and our soldiers have it far worse than we did. I thought as long as I could have plenty of water and an occasional shower at the Peace House, that I would survive.
What I never thought, however, was that I would grow to love it here: That I would be so overwhelmed by the magnitude of love and support I received that I would be depressed to leave Camp Casey. I don't want to leave, but I know that for the Camp Casey movement to keep growing, we have to leave Crawford and take Camp Casey to the people.
Tonight I will write to look back on the good times, less than good times and the miracles that occurred here in Crawford. But I want to thank one person for the best "vacation" and most amazing experience I have ever had -- George Bush: Thank you George for not meeting with me on August 6th and thank you for being the motivation for Camp Casey. I know you don't want Camp Casey to come to the place you reside between vacations, so I would suggest you bring our troops home immediately.
But most of all: thank you my son. Thank you for living the kind of life that inspires people to work for peace and justice. Thank you for choosing me to be your mom. Thank you for being the embodiment of love and thank you for being the inspiration for the Camp Casey movement. I promise you it won't end until all of your buddies are brought home. And I promise I will fight for your unborn nieces and nephews and the rest of the children of the world, so they won't be misused and abused by corrupt leadership like you and your buddies were.
I love you Casey.