This goes out to Toby, another mother's child, a real upright kind of guy who is still searching, who loves life and good country music and this great country of ours. He served in the 1st Army--the Big Red 1, not the Big Red Joke as it was for some people I know--entered Baghdad this second time around, serving out his time. Came back with PTSD, and didn't recognize his country anymore. He spends a lot of his time just looking for solitude and freedom, which for some of us is pretty much the same thing.
The people that go to war don't come back the same people. They may look the same, but they don't act the same. And Lord knows, they don't feel the same and experience this life the same. And what is life but experience anyway? War makes changes in people that the rest of us can't possibly imagine, and can't possibly understand when we see it. Trauma takes it toll on the human soul, amputating vital parts of the spirit, leaving other parts so damaged they become useless. They either learn, or just figure out how to limp through life, and some do pretty damn good. Others don't. Depends on the person.
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