Jello

It is March 20 in Bagdhad already, but March 19th still here on the East Coast. I did three things, more or less simulatenously, in the last half hour. I listened to my president speak, I prayed, and I made Jello, because that is one of the few things Mrs. Kairos Guy can keep down in the mornings. Making Jello is perhaps the only disinterested thing I have done all day, and may be the most significant. This is the third war directly involving the United States to begin in my lifetime, and the first one in which I actually understand that my primary duty is not to watch CNN but to care for the people around me. In a few minutes I will go cover up my little boy, and probably climb in bed with him for a few minutes, and feel his steady, untroubled breath on my cheek. It seems that it is not only he who comes to me when the nightmares happen. Tomorrow will see one of those spikes in Church attendance, and we will be blessedly spared the inanity of this year's run-up to the Oscars. No doubt the kindergarteners will be playing war at recess, with some choosing to be Iraqis without even knowing what that means. And still, one of the most important things I will do will be to make Jello. Don't you find that odd?