So I'm back in Texas, and I don't have to go back to Iraq. I missed my family very much.

I was going to tell the poetic story of my Mother's passing, but I don't feel like talking about that again at the moment, but I will say this:

2 months in Iraq-fine

3 weeks emergency leave in Hawaii- still fine

2 days in Texas- sunburn


...And so my war is over (for now), and I do feel changed by it. It was short, and I never fired my gun, but I did have it always at my side, which is to say the least unusual for an air force member. Most Airmen have never touched a weapon in a warzone, and it's forboding black coldness and smell of dirt and oil was my constant companion. I had the potential to kill everyone and everything, yet simply did not do so. This added another layer of outward stoicism, but outside only. I am not overly emotional, but I feel everything more after feeling nothing for so long, and I choose to embrace this, it sets me apart from the grunting masses, the nascar fanatics I ate and lived and worked with. I love more. I suppose I won the war.