PTSD and Diplomats

Growing up, PTSD wasn’t a thing, I mean, there were always random passing conversations about my Grandfather’s post war condition, and that he suffered from shell shock, but he dealt with it the same way other veterans did, by going to the local pub and drinking with his fellow air force cronies once a week. …

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Saying Goodbye

My Father, if you hadn’t already guessed, was British. Every once in a while, he had a little Whiskey, usually when tensions in a country were high, and he needed to have some thinking time. Every morning, over coffee, and getting ready for the day, my Father had the news on, whether it was on …

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Hierarchy Nobody really likes to talk about it, it is a strange and complicated web. My Father joined the Foreign Service and set his sights on becoming the boss. As a kid, you don’t truly understand the intricacies of job titles or how it will impact you, but the first time my Father became Ambassador, I …

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