Seems the time has come for my brother's next deployment. This will be #3, and his second time to Afghanistan. I am so proud of my brother for the work that he has done in each deployment and I will always be honored to be his sister. He has sacrificed so much of his own life and of his time with his family for his job, and that job is to serve our country as a United States Marine.
If you've never been through a deployment with someone that's close to you, count your lucky stars RIGHT.NOW and then try to imagine how it would feel if part of your heart was totally ripped out and thrown into a den of wild wolves, where you hoped it would just lay low and survive until someone else was able to come and retrieve it and bring it back to you. Think about your family and imagine how it would feel if you didn't talk to them for a few weeks...not because you didn't have the time or didn't want to, but because you couldn't. They're out of touch, out of reach - you have no idea if they're ok, if they've got enough to eat and drink, where they're sleeping, if they're too cold or too hot, or what their emotions are. Are they scared? Homesick? Do they wish they could talk to you as much as you wish you could talk to them??? Do they look at your pictures at night before bed and did they get that package you mailed a month ago yet? That's just touching the surface of the water with regards to the emotional toll that deployments take. Never mind the phone calls from concerned extended family, the sick feelings in the pit of your stomach when you turn on the news and they're discussing the latest casualties of war, the complete loss and emptiness that you feel if you miss a call on your cell phone and see that the number that had dialed you was only 5 or 6 digits and you know it was him trying to reach you. The military has great support available for spouses who want to take advantage of it, but I've yet to find a great place to connect with other family members of deployed soldiers.
Yes, my brother's married and yes, I know that his wife and kids are his #1 priority now and I respect that completely ... but he's still MY brother. My ONLY brother. He's the one that I grew up with, the one that knows more about me than any other human being on this planet, and one of the only people that I feel "that" connection with - I can talk to him about anything and he has a way of texting or calling me whenever I'm really in need of someone to talk to. He's the one that made me lose my composure by saying "I'm on my way" when my dad had his stroke and I was feeling so scared and alone at the hospital (of course, he's also the one that got me so drunk at our bonfire the night before dad was discharged that I could barely make it to the hospital without throwing up... :) ). He's one of the first people that I ever trusted to watch K when she was an infant, and he was the first person to keep her for an entire weekend so that Scott and I could attend his brother's graduation ceremonies. And every time he deploys, I think of all these things, and more...and it just breaks my heart.
I know what I have to do - I *have* to put on my Big Girl panties and deal with this. I have to stay strong in my faith and use this as an opportunity for spiritual growth. I have to continue to be a dedicated mother to my children and a good wife to my husband. I have to be a good friend to those that need me in their lives. I have to stay focused on my business and keep my clients' companies at the forefront of their markets. I have to mentally prepare myself for weeks with no contact and for the terrible nights laying awake wondering "what if?" We'll do Christmas, again, without him and I'll see the pictures from his girls' birthday party as they will both turn another year older in February. Every time I log into Facebook, I'll look to see if there's a green light by his name. I'll put my yellow ribbon magnet back on my car and my blue star service banner back in my house's front window. And then I'll begin to pray to God that the star stays blue. I'll count the months, then the weeks, then the days, and then the hours until he's stateside again...and until I'll be able to throw my arms around him again and hear him say "I love you Jess."
