On the anniversary of 9/11, as I stepped off the bus from work, I approached a group of sign-wavers demonstrating in front of the local library. I had just moved to the community and didn’t realize this was a weekly event until I stopped to chat with a few of them. And like last week, the “Bring Home the Troops’ and “End the War” sign-wavers were quietly chatting amongst themselves or standing in silent vigil.

But tonight there was another group holding signs gathered on one street corner. Their signs read, “Support the Troops, Support the Mission.” At first, I thought they were part of the group I’d seen last week, but their behavior told me otherwise.

These demonstrators brandished American flags in front of passing cars, volleyed pro-war slogans across the intersection. It appeared they were trying to instigate a face-off with the “anti-war” movement.

I stopped and watched for a few minutes and then went over and picked up a sign from a pile stacked against the library and stepped up to the street corner.

My son will be home in a few days after serving 15 months in Iraq, mostly in the troubled Diyala Province near the Iran border. May was a bad month for his company, the 5-20 Stryker Brigade. His stryker was blown up, two of his best friends died, and he saw six others blown to bits in another explosion. And I'm sure he's seen things he'll never be able to talk about.

Yesterday I read his brigade lost 47 during this deployment. Tragically, another from his company died today from injuries sustained that week in May. My heart ached for his family back in my home state of Oregon.

And two young women I spent some time with this last year are coming to grips with the grim reality that they will not be part of the joyous homecoming celebrations that will be held at Fort Lewis next week, because their loved ones were lost that bloody week in May.

“Support the troops, support the mission,” the man standing next to me shouted over the top of my head.

I turned and asked: “Sir, do you have any family members serving in Iraq?”

He shot me a look and said, “Well, not in Iraq – but we all serve!” he quickly added. “We have to win! Otherwise, my grandchildren will be fighting to keep us free. Our troops are doing this for them. It’s people like you that are keeping us from winning this war.”

I guess he thought I was a member of the anti-war movement he and his group were trying to challenge.

“Sir, my son has served two deployments in Iraq. And it’s because of people like YOU that he keeps having to go back there again and again.”

I thought he was going to hit me with his huge sign. But, instead, he walked away and stood near another man who was carrying a sign that read, “Impeach.”

He soon came back.

“Everyone has the freedom to their own opinion,” he said, “but I don’t think your son would appreciate you holding that sign.”

“Sir, my son knows exactly how I feel. He has told me preserving my freedom to speak my mind IS worth fighting for, but I don’t believe he has to go to Iraq to do that.”

“Then you don’t know what this war is about,” he shot back.

“However,” I said, “I see that it’s OK with you that MY son sacrifice his life for YOUR beliefs, but it’s not OK for YOUR grandchildren to die for the same cause.”

“You’re a stupid, stupid woman.” He turned and walked away.

Perhaps I am stupid. But if I am, it’s because I’m senselessly in love with my son, dulled witless with worry over his safe return and stupefied at how ignorant and insensitive and self-absorbed people can be when it’s not their child – or grandchild – in harm's way.

That man and many like him aren't "supporting the troops," they're supporting their egos, too insecure to admit they trusted an administration that lied, blindly supported a political party that cooperated in reducing our freedoms and were too lazy to step outside their self-rightous comfort zone to check the temperature of the cold, hard truth -- they made a mistake.

My son will be home in a few days; and I could have just passed on by with very little effort. But who will stand up for all the others who are still in Iraq, still in harms way, still dying for this administration's lies?

And who will stand up for those preparing to return to Iraq for their third and fourth deployments so that Mr. Flag Waver's family doesn't have to?

I looked up at the sign I was holding: “Bring the Troops Home,” and wondered: Would that man still call me stupid if I were standing on a street corner holding it up for a total stranger, perhaps, HIS grandson?

Or would HE be the one holding that sign?

I know one thing: I sure wouldn't call him stupid.