"As I can tell without compromising my own peace of mind" ~ Jane Eyre

I pushed the eggs around on my plate, for there was no room in my stomach for them. My insides were in a knot. I had been up for hours on this particular morning this past spring, waiting for him to come pick me up, wondering if this was the last time I would ever see him.

A few weeks earlier I had inquired as to what I could give him monetarily to help get the best body armor, for the Secretary of Defense at that time - and oh God I love saying at that time - was not providing good armor for the soldiers in the Army's infantry. I was then told that private armor was not allowed; a cruel dictate from the Defense Department. Not only had Rumsfeld not given the men in the infantry the best protection, but he purposely prevented them from having it.

My question over our breakfast was unfair and I knew it.

It was just weeks before his deployment to Iraq.

"I don't understand," I said. "How can you tell me that you are okay with the fact that Rumsfeld is not providing you with the best protection and resources? How can you accept that?"

"I have to accept it."

Yes, I suppose he did. He was about to walk into a war zone, and this was not exactly the best timing for me to stage a protest, so I just kept pushing my food around and changed the subject. I felt the bile rise in my throat as I half participated in our breakfast conversation and half participated in my silent rage over the fact that a smarmy, incompetent, belligerent jerk off was head of our nation's defense.

I blame Rumsfeld directly for all the sleep I lost this summer. He needed to be three steps ahead in this war, and he was always just half a step ahead. I argued with D.R. constantly about this vile man, and I was always flustered when D.R. would defend him.

Yesterday at around 1pm I saw the main news headlines online, and my eyes widened and my spirits lifted. Rumsfeld resigned, Rumsfeld stepped down, Rumsfeld fired. I raced upstairs to the media center where I knew Bush's press conference would be on. I sat there with four other teachers who also raced upstairs in joy after hearing of this poetic justice, staring at the screen with the corners of my mouth directed upwards in a small, faint smile.

I slept peacefully last night in hopes that perhaps this would even mean no deployment again next year. Perhaps there is now someone who is going to be three steps ahead, or maybe even four, who will be a better support to the soldiers and a better "architect" in the rebuilding of Iraq. Perhaps there will be more equity in who deploys, and perhaps D.R. won't miss another summer here in the United States. Perhaps there will be longer strides to get to peace quicker. All of this hope gives my insides little peace since it is all enough to send my heartbeat "a thumpin'."

For the first time in a long time, I feel joy in the morning.