"The Road Back"

I am reading a book titled "The Road Back", written by Erich Maria Remarque...the author of "All Quiet on the Western Front". The latter, written in German, described the hell of trench warfare in World War I. "All Quiet" is considered a seminal anti-war work. It did not glorify carnage, but rather described the savage and dehumanizing effects of war on the human body and psyche. Remarque was "there", having been drafted in 1916 and he was on the Front till the Armistice in November, 1918. He was wounded twice.

"The Road Back" describes the disengagement of the armies when "peace" came, and the return of the tattered remnants of the German units through the eyes of the men who fought to the bitter end and survived.
If one wants to gain insight to the reasons for the rise of political extremism in Germany, and the eventual stranglehold of the Nazi Party over that society, then read the book. We are still feeling the effects of those tumultous years nearly a century later.

I cite the book not as a history lesson, but as a human story of men that on one day were leading vicious raiding parties with knives, clubs and grenades...and fighting off the same from their enemies....only to find that the next day "Peace" had come. They could peek over the parapet, then stand exposed and not be shot.
They were incredulous and finally at a loss as what to do. Their world had had come to an end and they were not quite comfortable with the new order. As it is, the story goes on with the march back to Germany and the slow acclimation to the reality that "it" was over. It is a touching story. And I identified with their plight and their emotions. They had to "come to terms" with what had happened to them and make sense out of it all.

I don't want to overplay my personal "coming to terms" issues and liken them to the physical and spiritual trauma that those soldiers endured.  Though I still need to go through Cardiac Re-Hab, I believe my recovery is essentially complete, but I am so conditioned to "recovering"....doing the things that need to be done to advance my recovery.....that I find myself at a loss toward the end of the day as to what to do. Like those soldiers I figuratively peek over the parapet and, of late, feel safe enough to stand up exposed to life.
I think that is "coming to terms" largely defined. Crying is a release. I think tears wash away the hurt and the uncertainty of purpose and direction brought about by two major surgeries in six weeks.  So I am not concerned about the need to cry....it is natural and healing in nature. I am fortunate that the outcome of both surgeries has been so positive. I don't take that for granted.

Yesterday was Father's Day. Sue dragged me to Nordstrom's to take a look at the "Men's Half Yearly Sale"
I think I would rather gather cow pies than sort through clothing racks crammed with bargains, most of which hurt my eyes and I would never wear anyway. However.......we did run across some nice things that fit my newly svelte body. Sue was thrilled and declared she was going to use me as her personal "Ken" doll. I said I didn't have enough hair, but that didn't matter to her...so she says. Later we grilled Tri-Tips and roasted vegetables for the boys and my sister. We ate out on the patio in perfect weather.

I still don't know "What's Next?"....though I am getting advice from various sources and collecting my thoughts.

I think I have largely "Come to Terms". I am at peace.

Stephen