I'm an adamant believer in the truism that politics is personal. Everything is personal; what a stupid thing to have to state, but some people really try to believe there are non-personal reasons for doing politics. They must have a very narrow definition of personal.

Not me. But as to the matter at hand, I don't need a narrow definition: This is undeniably personal, as it regards my son and what I am experiencing in his absence. He is in Georgia with the rest of the Oregon National Guard, preparing to ship to Iraq at the end of next month. And while I knew his deployment was going to be difficult to deal with, I did not expect it to undermine me so soon. Hell, he's still in the States. His biggest danger still remains a training accident.

Even when he is over there, the odds are very much against him getting hurt. The Status of Forces Agreement, which Obama and his generals have shown every intention of following, will have removed American troops from the urban areas to the boonies, making it even less likely they will come under attack. It's quite probable that going over at the end of our occupatin of Iraq will be the biggest factor keeping him safe.

Nonetheless, he is going to war. He will be resented by millions and will be the potential target of others as long as he is there. The possibility of anything happening may be small, and growing ever smaller, but that does not remove the fear from my heart: He will be over there, and he will be in danger the entire time.

No head-knowledge had alleviat the fear that sits in my belly. I do not notice it much during the day — I have to actually stop and think about it to have it come into my consciousness — but I am finding that a kind of depression is eating at me. I know the source of that depression, for it is much like what I suffered when the boys were little and I lived in another city for a time. When I was away from them, I was half-asleep, moving through my days without purpose or energy. I find myself falling into that kind of malaise, and I know that the best I am going to be able to do is cope. There is no over-coming this, only coping.

This is the bottom line of what it means to let your country declare war and then take your children to fight that war. I do not care that my son volunteered; there is no relief in that knowledge, either. I honestly do not think he fully grasps what it is he is going into. How can he? Would he change his mind if he did know? I doubt it; he's not afraid, and he's very good at being a soldier. Being a soldier's father, however; that is something I refuse to be good at.

My child may not return from this deployment; I may never see my beautiful son again. I will live with this fear every day until he is home and this horrific experience is behind us all. Until then, I'll just take it a day at a time, and try not to collapse under the weight. That much, at least, I think I can do.