Veteran's Day

I know Veteran's day is actually 11/11, but I decided to make the entry today, because it's the day I got off from school.

While growing up, if anyone would have told me my brother was going to serve in the military straight out of high school, I would have laughed in their face.

My brother never showed signs of wanting to serve in the military... ever.
He never owned a toy gun in his life, we never really played anything relating to war, he was sort of chubby, he was a brainiac, and we kind of thought the army wasn't a good idea because "look how grandpa turned out..."
I was shocked when in the month of November of my Brother's senior year (2000-2001) he informed us all that "You guys, Sergeant White's coming over today at 5 in the afternoon... I'm going to enlist in the army."


Mom and Dad didn't put up as much of a fight as I thought they were... however, I started ignoring my brother after that day in November.

I'll admit it, I was pissed.
He was the older one in the family... he was the one who was supposed to experience college first, and then help me along the way.
He was ditching me for the army.

Whatever, dude, good luck with that shit. I can't wait 'til you leave.

I remember before he left for basic I'd constantly tell him mean shit, like "I'm not going to miss you, anyway!" "I can't wait until I don't see your stupid face in this house again, bitch!" and stuff like that.

He was scheduled to leave July 2nd... and the closer that date approached, the more upset I'd become. When we finally said goodbye at a Mexican airport, I hugged him one last time and kissed him on the cheek.

Good luck.

I stayed at the airport until I could no longer see his plane.

The time he was in basic flew by... although I would constantly think about him. Each time he called us, he'd ask us to write to him... and above all, to pray.

"It's so strange... but I can actually feel the prayers. They get me through the tough times."

Then September 11th happened... and I've never been so terrified.
I was 16, come on now.

When we arrived at Fort Sill for his graduation on the 13th, I cried. A lot.
I cried out of nervousness.
I cried from happiness.
I cried from guilt.
I cried from uncertainty.

I saw a skinnier Brother, a more serious Brother, a more... responsible Brother.

Holy cow, my brother's a man!

When we were finally allowed to touch him, this is what we did:He was making a face, obviously, making fun of us for being so sentimental. My sister and I were saying things like "What the fuck happened to you? You're like 90 pounds and you're as dark as an Aztec!"
So then Mom continued snapping shots of us. Were we happy about that? No.
It was annoying. We just wanted to spend time with Older Brother and keep him informed on what had occurred in Mexico over the summer, while he was gone, and here you had Mom and her annoying 1980's camera shooting away as we talked to Older Brother.
However, once it was time to go, she did capture one real shot (as overexposed as it might have been): It was hard to get back in the truck and watch his body get smaller as we drove away.
I took with me a very long blade of grass Older Brother had been cutting with his hands (we do the same thing while we talk: we start messing with whatever's close, much to the annoyance of others) as he talked with us prior to our departure.
I save stupid shit like that.

Those four years Older Brother was active duty were some of the most distressing ever.
While Mom had been aging well, those four years really took a toll on her. She started going grey and wrinkles started forming (Mommy looks old now ::frown::).
Each time we'd say goodbye to Older Brother, we'd wonder if it'd be the last time we'd get to tell him we loved him.
Sad to say, but true.

But it was thanks to those four years that I really started to know and appreciate the soldiers.
They're amazing men and women.
Sure, many have very... ummm... interesting love lives... but when it comes to character, I love and admire every single one.

It breaks my heart to know that so many men and women of my generation have been killed or wounded in this stupid, stupid war.

God bless the veterans (and not one should be homeless. Not a single one).

And in loving memory of the first soldier I ever knew,
My Grandfather, the Korean War veteran: (He's the guy in center. While I did not inherit his lovely blue eyes, I did get that crooked smile. Badass!) Such a handsome man... too bad he was... just a little... messed up (and look, this photo serves as a prime example of how having someone in the military affects people differently. This picture was almost torn to pieces by one of his daughters who hates the fact Grandpa served in the army. She says it's thank to that Grandpa made his family go through so much turmoil. She blames it for stealing her father away... when it was my mom who didn't know her father until she was 11 years old, but whatever, at least she failed at ripping the picture).
It's crazy to think this is the first year he's not here to boast about Veteran's Day, and then go on and on about the Korean War until the phone card runs out of minutes.
:' )

Descanse en Paz, Abuelo.