I work in a hospital and am still shaken by my encounter with one patient a couple of days ago. I met a man whose daughter just came back from Iraq. But when she came back, she was no longer the loving daughter who would care for him in his old age or the devoted mother of his grandchildren. She came back in a coffin. He had had a falling out with her husband and could now no longer visit his grandchildren either. He’s a tough man, a former construction worker, friendly with a sharp sense of humor. But when he spoke of the loss of his daughter and two grandsons, he was bent over in grief and wept openly. My heart went out to him, but I didn’t know what to say. For the first time, the war briefly touched my life and left a pain that was suffocating. It was all I could do to keep my own composure. And his is just one story.
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