My brother, my hero

Today my brother is going to war.  This isn’t his first time, but it’s been so long since his last time.  We’ve been spoiled by having him home.  Hell, let’s be honest, we’ve been spoiled his whole military career.  In the 15 years he’s been active duty, my mother has never missed a Christmas with my brother.  She’s given up Easters, Thanksgivings, Mother’s Days and more birthdays than we can count, but we’ve always had Christmas.

Today, he leaves to go ‘over there’.  We never know for sure exactly where ‘over there’ is in part because he can’t tell us and in part because we don’t want to know.  If we knew where he is, we would watch the news obsessively for any mention of ‘there’.   We joke that he’s going to ‘the sand box across the ocean’ or sometimes it’s even the giant cat liter box.  No matter what we call it to make light of it, he’s still going to war.

Whether I believe in the war or support the war is a moot point really. My brother is active duty military.  He works for the government.  He has a job to do, and he does it.  He is an employee, just like every other solider over there.  They are just doing their job, following orders, fulfilling their job requirements.  It’s not like they all got together and said “Hey Let’s go invade another country and blow shit up!”

He has a job to do.  And he’s damn good at the job he does.  And for that I’m proud of him.  Sure there are times like this that I wish for once he was a slacker and sucked at his job and just maybe being an under achiever would keep him out of harm’s way.  But then again, maybe it wouldn’t.  Maybe he would still have to go over there.  At least he knows what he’s doing, and does it well, and I pray that knowledge keeps him safe.

He called the kids a few nights ago, to tell them he’s going again.  All they know for sure is that their uncle will once again be over there and not on American soil.  Newt called me after talking to him..

Newt: Mom, I’m worried about him going.  Will he be ok?

Me: Sure he will.  He’s a smart cookie.

Newt: Did he do college?  (more of an accusation than a question)

Me: Yes, he did.

Newt: How long?  (suspicious, that maybe he did college, but not long enough)

Me: Uh five years. (I didn’t tell her that a lot of people were doing it all in 4, and that he was on the 6 year plan that included a major in alcohol, with a minor in other things)

Newt: Oh, well, that’s pretty long.  He ought to be smart enough.

He is smart enough, no matter how much college he did.  He’s damn good at his job, and he believes in what he is doing.  I believe in him.  I believe in his ability to do his job.  There are those out there who don’t believe in this war.  That’s fine.  They have the freedom to make that choice and voice that opinion.  My brother is over there, defending that right and that very freedom.  He will put himself in harm’s way so that those back her who don’t support the war have the freedom to stand against the job he’s doing.

I’m proud of him.  I will worry for him.  I will pray for him.  And I will thank God every day that the phone didn’t ring, because they won’t call us to tell us he’s ok.  In my heart he’s still my little brother who still needs me to look out for him and protect him.  In reality he’s my younger brother who is over there protecting all of us.