The Story I Read to my Storytelling Class Today

I am taking a course from Pascal Bautte OSB and married priest. He asked us to write a story less than five minutes in length. I chose to write about where and when I was notified that my son, Lt. Jason Scott was injured in Iraq. The two men in the class had served in the Korean War, the three women including myself were grandmothers and peace makers and against war. One of the women asked me for a copy of the story. This is the first time I have written about that phone call and my experience of it.

I chose this event because of my feelings, the setting and the impact it had on my life. This notification started my individuation as a person (Jungian term). I have not stopped yet and will only stop when I die for it is a life long process and I have 62 years of unconsciousness to work on.

The News

I marched against the Vietnam War and in 1967 held my new-born daughter in my arms, “War is not healthy for children and any living thing” was and is my favorite poster saying.

I had a son Jason who joined the Army and was sent to Iraq in January of 2005. Lt Jason Scott 3^rd ID out of Ft Stewart Ga was a platoon leader patrolling in a humvee 12 hours a day, 7 days a week. His father and Jason had made a pact not to “contact me as news would upset me.” I attended the weekly peace vigils in Chicago and handed out peace-making literature. By the fall of 2005 I was totally distraught and unsupported by my husband. I was in therapy and spiritual direction attempting to cope with my ever growing anxiety, depression and fear. As a part-time hospice chaplain I knew death well

On an earlier visit to Tampa that year I had experienced a Sol Niger, a black sun and knew something was going to happen to Jason and it would not be good. Everyday I prayed for Jason’s safety and that angels would keep him close. My friends who did not believe in God asked their praying friends to pray for Jason’s safety.

I decided to spend a long weekend with my grandchildren 8, 7 and 3 in Tampa Fl. On Friday night October 15, we headed out to a Halloween party at the local zoo and went to bed about 10 PM. I read for a while and switched off the light. At about 1 in the morning, my bedroom light turned on.

“Mom, Dad just called Jason has been seriously injured.”

I came up from a deep sleep, “Lisa, What is going on?’

“Dad didn’t know, the army called, said Jason had been Very Seriously Injured VSI. He was on the way to Landstull (Germany). He lost an arm, there's damage to his face and side.”

I began to cry.

I got out of bed and we went to the family room where Charlie, Lisa’s husband sat.

A light from the kitchen provided our only illumination.

We were all groggy and in shock.

My only son…

I sat down by Charlie on the sofa.

Lisa and I began to cry.

We sat and hugged each other, reviewing the little information we had.

We cried in fear and our anguish.

“Lisa we don’t know what happened, we don’t know if Jason will live or die. Will he be blind? Will he never walk again? Let’s pray.” I led the prayer “Loving God heal Jason that he might live. Take all our feelings and use them to heal Jason. We choose not be angry but to forgive those who injured Jason.”

I had entered the combat zone and I will never leave.