Frances Richey

Hi Frances,
I read your poem in the Ny Times magazine, and just came across your website. The poem was very powerful, and I am trying to decide if I'll have the guts to read your book. I am not a mother of a soldier in Iraq (I'm only 24 years old), but I am the girlfriend of a soldier in Iraq. I'm very lucky that he's not in combat and therefore I'm able to convince myself that he's safe.

Also, I wanted to comment on something on your blog: You wrote that you read the news of Iraq voraciously. I do that too, and even today found myself drawn to this heart-wrenching Ny Times piece with excerpts from letters/blog entries from soldiers who died. The last letter was a "just in case" note written by a soldier to his girlfriend. I almost cried. Still, reading all these articles makes me feel connected to my boyfriend somehow, so I do it.

His mother, meanwhile,told me she's had to stop reading the news about Iraq completely.

I think the different coping strategies are interesting.

Best of luck with the book tour.

-Alexandra

All day today, as I worked and ran errands, my thoughts kept coming back to the importance of March 19, 2008, the 5th anniversary of the war in Iraq. This evening I watched The News Hour, and looked at every name and every face of the 12 soldiers they put on the screen at the end of the program; 12 more men who will never return to their families. I know it's hard to look at those pictures and really take in what has been lost. Hard to begin to imagine the sorrow their families will live with for the rest of their lives. It is easy to get so busy with the day to day demands of our lives, that we forget there are thousands of US soldiers still deployed in very dangerous circumstances, each one with a family waiting, and hoping for their safe return. If you are reading this posting, please don't forget them. If we don't look at their faces, and listen to their stories, and remember, the solutions we pray for may never be realized.

Since the publication of the poem, Inventory, in the New York Times Magazine, I've received a number of e-mails asking about the poem, so I thought I'd give those of you who asked a little background. When my son, Ben, was preparing for his first deployment to Iraq in the fall of 2004, I asked him to go through his gear with me and to show me all the things he had to do to prepare. I wanted to know as much as he could tell me, and he was very generous in taking the time to share all that he was allowed to share. Somehow, knowing the particulars, even those that were hard to hear, helped me to be with him without crying, and to accept the reality that he was going to go. The list became a kind of portrait of him...his interests, his values, what he was prepared to sacrifice, his caring nature and the tough decisions he had to make before he left.

I don't know the origins of all the books and personal items on the list. I didn't ask him those kinds of questions. In any poem there are always unanswered questions, and in my own work, I am often surprised by lines and memories that come in spontaneously, like those interjections of my own thoughts.

Each of us, who are parents of soldiers, have our own ways of coping. Mine was to learn as much as I could before Ben left about his preparations. While he was there, I read everything I could about what was going on in Iraq. I became a CNN junkie, and watched all the news. I don't know why that helped me cope, but it did, and it all started with that first list that became the poem, Inventory.

When this e-mail came in, I wanted to share it with all my readers. Deb was kind enough to give me permission to post it here...

Read your poem in the NYTimes Sunday - wow, it really hit home for me. My son is a Recon Marine and home right now on pre-deployment leave. He will be in Iraq next month. I quickly ordered your book and look forward to receiving it. I had so many similiar feelings as I purchased silk long underwear, a special forces vest, etc for him. I thought " I can't keep him warm or safe now, this is as close as it gets. My heart sank when he told me I would be the recipient of his 'death benefit' and then got teary eyed. I try to not get overly emotional knowing his resolve and not wanting to make it difficult for him. . . but it remains so painful for me.
. . . thanks, again looking forward to reading your book.

-Deb Melle

Yesterday I received several messages from mothers and wives of soldiers who are about to be deployed to Iraq. Some had seen a poem from my new book on the Lives page of the NY Times Magazine yesterday (Sunday, March 2), and wanted to write in that they could relate. The poem, "Inventory", is about watching my son pack and prepare for his first deployment. Thank you for writing in. I was touched by your words. I want to invite anyone reading this posting who wants to share their experience of watching a husband, son, daughter, loved one, prepare for deployment, to send it to my e-mail or blog. Let me know, when you send, if it's okay with you for me to post your message for others to read. My best to you, F