A lot of guys won’t let themselves cry after the war, unless alcohol opens the valve. They are afraid once they start crying, they may never stop. Even more so if he was a leader. While over there he had to appear steady, calm, and strong; so that the young guys would likewise be able to bolster themselves and finish the job.

Building a callous on the heart.

I remember when the flood gate opened, and I cried with a brokenness whose stain lingers years later. I was watching a movie that had absolutely nothing to do with war. It was called “Nell” and maybe the only Liam Neesan movie in which he wasn’t some sort of vigilante, action hero. The movie is set in Western, North Carolina. I probably chose it because I was feeling nostalgic for my home in the Blue Ridge Mountains while living in the desert of Southern California after my second tour in Iraq.

I don’t remember what scene it was, but unexpectedly a geyser of tears erupted. Sounds of brokenness and anguish emerged from my throat. I curled into a ball like a child and shook uncontrollably. In surprise and shock my wife embraced me with gentle compassion, wordlessly providing comfort. I cried to exhaustion, then took slow, deep breaths. I was spent. The emotional drain brought a deep sleep for which I was grateful.

I was puzzled by this event. Looking back now I can see there was something in the film that I recognized. Tragedy, loss of innocence, and a feeling of being alone. The story was very different, but the human experience resonated.

The tears will return on occasion, but like a gentle rain, not the hurricane force of yesterday. No longer in uniform I don’t have to wear a stoic mask. I have the freedom to release the flow of the rising tide, so that the dam will not burst.

So sometimes I cry.

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