Come play with us under the blanket, Mama.” I don’t have to be asked twice. I set aside my work, civilian casualty figures for the Iraq war, and join the kids under the tent they’ve made of my grandmother’s afghan. “Tell us again about your grandma,” they ask, and I oblige.
“Your great-grandma was small, but she was very strong,” I begin. Being twerps themselves, they appreciate this. “Mary Isabella Cusimano left school after the fifth grade to work to help her family. She cooked and laughed generously, and crocheted constantly, the work of her hands warming us still, wrapping her great- grandchildren in this cozy crocheted hug….” The wiggling and giggling stops. The kids fall asleep under the trance of a story and the warmth of a blanket. I tuck the afghan around them and return to work.
Unexpectedly, the kids have clarified this grim task for me, counting dead Iraqi civilians. Everyone’s family deserves to be remembered. There are three sets of conflicting, contested numbers. U.S. Gen. Tommy Franks infamously said at the start of the Iraq war, “We don’t do body counts.” This is not true. Every U.S. military death is carefully counted and publicized. Iraqi civilian deaths are not so carefully counted by each military service, and are kept secret. The This article appears in November 19 2007.
