I didn't know if I was going to write anything about Memorial Day, but then last night I watched a little piece on the news about suicide in the Army. Basically it talked about how so many soldiers were being simply medicated and then sent to the front lines again to fight, without any mental health help. They showed many families talking about their loved ones and it kind of got me thinking. I never really ever thought of my brother as being a hero at all. He died selfishly, not heroically. But then after watching that piece, I started to think of it from a psychological standpoint. Perhaps he was mentally ill and he was never properly helped. That would not have been his fault. I don't know if he ever sought help or ever let anyone know about his depression or suicidal tendencies, but no matter what, he was never helped properly. He was fiercely patriotic and he did go overseas. Fighting in wars is not pretty. It's terrible. It's horrific. It creates strain on your mind and body and soul. So today, I remember my brother.
Tuesday, May 26, 2009
Posted by Milk Mama at 2:50 PM