Well, I'm excited to see that even a computer-moron like me can occasionally fumble around and do something right--after I clicked the correct box, people have been freed up to make comments, and I appreciate those that have been posted so far.

I'd like to address the person who asked what "regular people" could do to support those families who have loved ones in harm's way, to show their appreciation. How kind of you to ask. It means a lot to me. My answer though--as usual--might be a bit different from what you might expect.

Most people think that big gestures such as having an organization send a ship-load of care packages or hundreds of anonymous well-wishing cards is a good idea. And please don't misunderstand me when I say that such gestures are wonderful and that the troops do indeed appreciate them.

But believe it or not, there has been such an outpouring of anonymous gestures of patriotism that not only the U.S. mails but also the troops themselves are getting a bit overwhelmed. Most people really don't understand that, at least in the case of the Marines as well as various combat Army units, these guys aren't living in established barracks with nice big storage lockers. Right now my son is stuck in a tent with 80 of his closest Marine buddies--you're supposed to laugh, here--sleeping in bunk beds stacked up two deep. If they want to call home, they have to wait in line up to four hours, and when they get their turn, they have exactly one-half hour to call all the loved ones who would love to hear from them. During my son's last half-hour, he called us here at home (my husband and me), his sister up in New York who is very ill, and his girlfriend. You can't say a whole lot that way, other than, "I love you and miss you." They have no place to store anything, and when they move, they take with them whatever will fit on their backs. A lot gets left behind.

This is not to say that we haven't sent him any care packages, so don't get me wrong. What I'm suggesting to this kind person who inquired is that the simplest gestures can mean a great deal. If you know someone personally--a neighbor, member of your church, family member--even an acquaintance--I would suggest you get their address and send them something personal. Rather than having your Bible study group do up a hundred care packages with generic deodorant and socks--why don't you ask this guy or gal's mom what you think they need or what you think they would most appreciate, something personal? I confess, the most popular item I've sent overseas is copies of the racy young-men's magazine, MAXIM. They all love it and pass it around to their buddies. And it's not something they get in a generic "any-soldier"-type box.

But you don't have to go to even that much trouble. You can send a funny card or even just a quick note saying, "I'm praying for you dear, and I'll keep an eye on your mom (or wife or kids) for you until you return to us safe and sound."

Personal notes mean so much--you just can't imagine. When they are on patrol, they are in the most terrible danger, but when they are back on post, they have hours of boredom to fill. So, while it's nice to dig into the industrial-size box sent by ABC Women's Foundation--it's so much nicer to come back and find a card or letter or box addressed just to that guy or gal, with personal news from home, or maybe their favorite beef jerky or some little goofy toy that makes them laugh and gives them something to do.

One of the things I sent that my son appreciated most was a packet of standard thank-you notes with some addresses of family and friends. It gave him a chance to show HIS appreciation. When he sent one to a fourth-grade class who'd written to him, they said his was the only thank-you they'd gotten from any of the soldiers they'd written, and they were thrilled to death.

The U.S. Postal Service now offers these great Priority Mail "flat-rate" boxes. They are medium-sized boxes that, no matter how much stuff you can cram into one, only costs a single flat rate. With the recent postal hike, that comes to $8.10. You can pick them up for free from the post office, take one home, assemble it on your kitchen table, and then whenever you stop by the discount store or grocery and see something you think your neighbor's son or niece might like over there, pick it up and toss it into the box. When it's full, it'll cost eight bucks to send and take a couple weeks to get there.

But again, just cards or notes are sufficient. Anything that says, I'm thinking of you. If you want to do more, you can ask that same soldier or Marine if there is a platoon buddy who never gets anything from home, and send something taylored to them. One of Dustin's buddies loved Chips Ahoy chocolate chip cookies, but when he got his one and only care package from his mom, it was full of generic dollar-store brands. He was so disappointed. Dustin gave me his name--the address will be the same--and I sent him several big packages of different Chips Ahoy cookies along with a funny letter. Dustin said you'd've thought the guy had just opened King Tut's tomb.

As for the family members, let me tell you--there is no way to put a price on how much it means when you get a phone call out of the blue from a friend or acquaintance who says, "How is Dustin? Have you heard from him? How are YOU dong?" Especially when there has been terrible news from Iraq, such as the day eleven Marines died in one explosion--a quick phone call can just mean the world. All you have to say is, "I'm praying for you and thinking about you." You can ask for their loved one's address. It doesn't take ten minutes, and I promise you, they will never forget it.

Sometimes people say things that are well-meaning, like the gentleman who said to me, when I told him Dustin had deployed his first time, "Well, I'd rather they be fighting the terrorists over there than over here." I stared at him and said, "Well, it feels a little different when it's YOUR OWN SON."

It's not that I didn't think what he was saying had merit, it's just that there is no room for political arguments when a friend's heart is breaking with constant, constant terror that she will come home from the grocery store one day to find that blue sedan sitting in front of her house--which is what happened to one woman I know.

The generic "they" who are fighting those terrorists are our children, our CHILDREN. When it gets right down to it, that's all we care about, that's what keeps us lying awake half the night, what keeps us dreading the knock on the door, what makes us burst into tears over the evening news.

Expressions of faith are also kind and well-intentioned, but you have to be careful. Just to say, flat-out, "God will protect him and bring him home," sounds very comforting, but the way we mothers look at it is this...All those OTHER mothers were praying for THEIR children, too. Was God not protecting THEM?

In other words, we try to have faith in God's protection, and we pray for it all the time, but we still cry outselves to sleep with anxiety, dread, and fear. It doesn't mean we don't have faith, and to make blanket declarations like that can sound smug and make someone feel like somehow they don't have enough faith or the right kind.

We trust that God will protect our children and bring them home--we have to. But the tragic truth is that they DON'T all come home. Every single day, an average of three families get that knock on their door or that phone call, and it is over for them.

So all you have to say is that you are praying for us. We appreciate that, we really do.

In the end, that's all any of us can do, isn't it?