Several years ago I was at Grand Central Terminal with my sister’s younger in-laws. All military back from the Endless War. A twentyish Ranger said with young envy for a lost time that New York must have been crazy back in the 1970s. I replied yes and then flashed on the ghosts. Too many to count or remember.
AIDS, ODs, Craziness.
They took their toll.
I broke into tears.
The soldiers gathered around and hugged me saying they knew how I felt.
They had lost friends too.
Too many friends.
Same as me.
Suddenly I realized I had been repressing PTSD for decades.
And it was okay because these soldiers had it too.
All together without knowing it.
We are us.