Recently, as I spoke to a group of veterans and military family advocate associations, it suddenly occurred to me that this war and all its tentacles reminded me of the movie "Ground Hog Day". In the film, Bill Murray awakens every morning to find that he is reliving the same day again and again. However, he has the advantage of keeping the knowledge that he acquired the previous day, and uses it to change things accordingly, for the better.

Ironically, as Christine Pelosi pointed out from the audience, I was serendipitously making this observation on the real, actual Ground Hog Day. Unfortunately, just like the movie, it didn't matter that the real Ground Hog Day ended. The next day was more of the same. The same troops being deployed under the pseudonyms of "escalation", "augmentation", or "reinforcements", depending on who was making the pundit rounds. Also unfortunately, unlike Bill Murray's character, there seems to be no carry-over of discovery or experience into the next more-of-the-same day in our real-life never-ending nightmare.

Yesterday's morning browse through my e-mail produced the month-old news through a new Boston Globe article that another young man had brought the unbearable demons of war home with him and had ended his own life to escape them. Before doing so, he had asked for help from the VA, following the correct protocols and finding that he was left out in the Minnesota cold when it came to the insufficiency of resources and concern for the severity of his mental anguish. I felt sick. Just like I have felt sick reading or listening to so many other stories with similar details and similar outcomes. Day after day, month after month, year after year.

Then, I received an e-mail from a friend whose National Guard son returned safely from Afghanistan to fulfill his dream of becoming a police officer. He had just finished training and assumed his new job, moved into a new apartment and was planning his wedding. Now that's all gone. He's going to be part of the "surge". Only rather than a "way forward", his life is going backward. Back to more of the same danger and deprivation. And to some of the demons that choked the life out of the Minnesota soldier at the end of an extension cord in his basement. Thank goodness he has a family which would never for an instant countenance his not receiving treatment for the suffering of his body or his spirit. When he returned from the last tour, my friend's son asked his church-going mother if God would forgive him for what he had to do in Afghanistan, a question I've heard other mothers say they also have been asked. "Will I have to go to hell?," he asked. "No," she assured him. Being less Christian, if he had been my son, I probably would have told him that hell was already overbooked anyway, with the souls who contrived this virtual hell on earth for us all. But his anguish was chilling. Another indication that the repetition of deployment after deployment is nothing compared to the decades our military will spend reliving their experiences.

When I thought I'd had enough repetition for one day, another friend with two sons who have been deployed, called to say one of them had been contacted and asked to return to Iraq. He has a choice, but she is fearful of what it will be. I was standing next to her when her other son called just days ago to say those words every mother with a child in Iraq waits for..."Mom, I'm out."

Then there was an item about another ship which will be sent to the Gulf, smack in the middle of an Iran conflict waiting room. My son is in Iraq and scheduled to come home in about six weeks. He hasn't seen his own newborn son yet, and after a little time with his wife and child, he is going on a "float". Days ago, thinking she is much stronger than I am, which she probably is, she gingerly mentioned that they think his "float" might turn into an Iran watch. I chose to ignore the "maybe". Today's article made me face the possibility.

So here we are. Another day, another report of car bombings and death, perhaps another soldier desperate for help, not getting it, another National Guardsman having his life dismantled again, another family living in fear, another baby without his father, another mother fearing for her child's life. All the while the President referring to "a surge". And the "way forward". Glorious pronouncements that evoke progress, change, improvement. And yet we are not moving forward. We are not learning from our mistakes. We are not listening to the lessons of history. We are steadfastly repeating the same day we have been living for the last four years. Wondering when the new day will come.

Maybe we could schedule something light and uplifting with George and Laura.