Veteran's Day is a day to honor those who have served in the military and I have decided to dedicate this post to my brother. No surprise there. It's possible he will never read it. Which is fine...I'm not trying to get sisterly points or anything, it's just that today is the day to honor men and women like him, so I'm gonna do it!! Also, I usually get a little emotional when I think back to his deployments. So if this seems a bit all over the place, then it is accurate to how I feel.
Bubb. I love you. I'm proud of you and the things you've accomplished. I'm a firm believer that we are the land of the free because of the brave and I salute you for being a part of that.
There have been times where I've been jealous of all the things you've been able to see while you served and then there are so many things I'm thankful for not ever having to shed my eyes on.
Every time you left I lived in a weakened state wondering when or if you'd come home (that's a horrible way to live by the way). I purposely kept away from news stations because if I had to hear about another car roadside bombing and then wait for a call to know you were okay, I would have never been able to function. Thankfully, you came back, and now I have to admit a few things. First, I still remember every fight we ever had as children and as teenagers. I also remember that it took you enlisting for both of us to set aside any anger that we held for each other for any petty reason. I know the majority of our anger was sibling rivalry, but if I could do it all over again I'd hold you a lot more, I'd let you play dolls with me when you asked, I'd let you crawl in my bed when mom and dad were fighting--instead of kick you out. I'd demand we have more dance parties to New Kids on the Block, and maybe I would have let you talk me into going hunting with you at Aunt Jane's. Maybe not...guns will forever freak me out.
But now, even with our past, this is what you going into the army has done to me:
You're the reason I can come out of my shell when I see someone in fatigues to just tell them 'thank you.' You're the reason I can shed tears during the singing 'God Bless America' or The Star Spangled Banner. You're the reason I can be at a sporting event, church, or grocery store, and have to cover my face/swipe at my tears/and control my breathing just when we are asked to recognize any military personnel in the seats (being in a stadium of any sort, watching other Americans applaud you and others like you gets me to the point of snot sobbing). You see? I was there every time you came back. There were times I raced that plane to the airport so I could see you in our small airport, get off that plane. I'm sure God got tired of me thanking Him for bringing you back, and then in another four months I was bargaining with Him again. "God, if you bring him back I will never again (fill in the blank)." I loved being able to see how others looked at you, with honor, wonderment, and awe when you stepped into the airport. Whether you saw it or not, people appreciated you. I appreciate you. I would watch you with your little family and with us. You became a man, slightly harder every time, and just a little bit different. And then it seemed you had finally seen the one thing that would break you.
I love listening to your stories, the ones you are excited to tell, and I know there is one story in there that you don't want to talk about--and you don't have to. I just want you to know that I love you. I'm proud of you. I know you aren't serving any longer and if you were given the choice you'd be a part of it again. Thank you for your strength and bravery. And thank you for letting me hug you like an idiot every time you came back. It doesn't matter that you tower over me, you will ALWAYS be my little brother. I love you. I thank you and all the other men and women who have served. And because I'm pretty confident that you may not read this I'm going to post a couple pictures.

































