The Letter, 09/09/2003

My children got a letter from my brother this weekend. He wrote to me as well, in a separate letter I got today, and he said he was trying to explain to my children where he was going and what he was doing so they could understand. I understood that; his letter to my children was sweet and poignant. It made me cry.

My brother is a physician in the U.S. Army Reserves and was recalled last month. He left his wife and his practice and his small acreage in the country to go to Afghanistan or some equally god forsaken place. He will probably be away six months to year and since my SIL hasn't heard from him since yesterday, we think he may have finally shipped out.

I need to go have lunch with my father. He is getting old now. He looked stressed when I was there last week. My father would never admit he's scared for my brother to be in a war zone. He would never admit he misses him. He would never admit he lays awake nights worrying about things he can't do anything about. I know that because I know him. I know that because as a parent myself I can't imagine the terror and helplessness which would fill my days and nights knowing one of my children was in a war torn country where Americans are the enemy.

I'm hoping it will get better now that he's gone. Better in a sense that we aren't all waiting for the inevitable, his leaving, anymore. Now we can do something: think of things to send as gifts, things to write, DVDs to buy, photos to take, care packages to make. I'm hoping it will get better in the sense that we can begin counting the days until he comes back.

I've thought for a long time I should keep a journal. I've been doing it since my brother left so I can have something to send him, something to give him a glimpse into my life, something to keep him up with my children and something to help relieve his boredom and homesickness.

If the truth be known I've sent him more words in the month he's been gone than we've spoken to one another in the last year.

Maybe his being away will bring us together, help us communicate, make us understand one another in a way we could never have done by living close.

I wish it weren't so, but we must make the best of the circumstances as they are.