I don't talk about my cousin Lisa a lot, because... well, we weren't close. She lived in Illinois. I grew up in Georgia.

We were related, but basically strangers. A few holidays here and there, but that's it.

Lisa served as an officer in the Air Force most of her life.

When Lisa got older, she came out. I think I knew she was gay, but anyway, Lisa was gay.

She served during a time when being gay in the military was... more difficult. (Understatement.)

Lisa was a normal, decent, lesbian woman. Oh yeah. And she had a mullet. That was cool.

You may have noticed that I keep referring to Lisa in the past tense. That's because Lisa isn't alive anymore.

I don't know what Lisa did exactly, but she worked in intelligence. I gathered through family that she saw some things that she had trouble processing.

Now look, I'm no expert on mental health, but I think if Lisa was given better mental health care in the military, she might still be that distant lesbian cousin I see at every 4th Thanksgiving.

I say this, because I feel like we all have "that story" we tell.

I think this story is common. You probably have a somewhat distant cousin who served in Iraq, Afghanistan, or maybe even Vietnam. (If you're of a certain age.)

And after that, they never really put it back together, mentally speaking. The military just seems to give up on them.