I clipped Ruth Fremson's image of an Iraqi woman cradling her dead husband's head in her hands the day it ran in the New York Times. I remember it as being shortly before the war was official, but after it was almost certain to be. I placed it on the fridge in line of sight from where I sit and drink my morning coffee. I promised myself to keep it there until it was all over; as a reminder of what war is. Of what is lost. Of what can never be regained.
Five years later it remains where I first placed it.
March 19th will be the fifth anniversary of America's war in Iraq.
Five years too many.
