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Today You Are A Man Dear Son, Today is the proudest day of my life. Knowing that in just a few short hours, you, my son will sacrifice his own life for the sake of our cause tells me I must have done something right. I remember holding you when you were barely four kilograms. Now, the explosives strapped to your body alone weight almost four times that much. Let me assure you at this juncture, my dear boy, that what you are doing is for the best. It is often the case that 12-year-old children in your position entertain second thoughts in the final moments. If this is so, please understand that we have already cashed the check for $25,000 and put down two months security on a lovely little four-and-a-half-room condo in Nablus. Your brother has his heart set on a top-of-the-line DVD player--you know, the programmable one with five-disc selector. Surely we will think of you whenever we watch Armageddon, Tora Tora Tora, Towering Inferno, or any other of our favorites. So please, if you have cold feet, keep them to yourself. You wouldn’t want to disappoint your mother, now would you? Which reminds me—your martyr posters just came back from the printer, and they look great. They went a little too heavy on the reds, but overall, not bad. I think wearing the blue pullover from the GAP was a wise choice, as it sends the message that you are on one hand a hero, yet on the other hand, just a regular, outgoing boy. We must all make an effort to keep a stiff upper lip. We must look beyond regret. Yes, it is true that I will never see you graduate. But what a valedictory speech you are making! Yes, it is a fact that you will never know the pleasures of courting a young lady. But you, my son, have a date with destiny! At this time, I must confess, I am not certain that you will be able to avoid physical pain entirely. There are those who say your soul departs before the blast and rises quickly to heaven, where you are greeted by 70 virgins. Others say you remain completely conscious and must endure the unspeakable pain of incineration and feeling fully each part of your body scattered to the wind. We do know this, my dear son—no one has ever complained. I have one additional confession to make—something that has, strangely, been weighing heavily on my troubled mind. Though we will forever mourn and honor your memory, your mother and I may nonetheless engage in marital relations from time to time. This, we assure you, is not for the purposes of evil carnal lust as they practice in the West, but rather strictly to bring other martyrs such as yourself into the world. Well, we have a big day ahead of us, and no reason to go on and on. Just a reminder—you forgot to hang the wash out yesterday. (Only a little joke, my precious one!) On a more serious note, please refrain from either smoking or playing with the TV remote before we depart to the bus terminal. With much love, Your Father p.s.: Your soccer coach called. I told him not to expect you at practice. ' Click here to rant back. |