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Two lives blurred together by a photo - Los Angeles Times →
It’s interesting, how over the last couple of years I’ve been so angry about the war, that I’d managed to push out all of the sadness I had once felt about it. I was digging around for images to use in a card for my niece’s husband, who is going for his second tour in Iraq in a few weeks, when I came across the familiar picture of the marine smoking a cigarette. I only got through a few lines in the story before the tears started to flow, and right now I feel as though my guts have been rearranged, my insides ache and my throat is swollen nearly closed. I don’t know what to say beyond that, my emotions are so visceral to me right now that I’m afraid that spilling them out will start a flood I won’t be able to stop. So I’ll say what I’m supposed to, what I’ve been told to.
Good luck Andy. We love you, we’ll miss you, be safe. You’ll be home soon.
And I am so fucking sorry.
