Dear Little Brother,
Your plane landed ‘in the desert’ today. Mom and Dad let me know they got your email saying you’d arrived safe and sound, if without luggage. I know that you can’t tell us much about where you are or what you’re doing over there, but I keep wanting to ask anyway. I want to know where you are so that when there’s announcements on the news, I’ll know right away that you’re okay, or maybe not. I want to know what you’re doing so I can reassure myself that we really will be seeing you again in 7 weeks when you come off of this tour.
I know we’re lucky. This is your first tour and it’s not a long one and the type of plane that you fly isn’t the kind that’s usually in the thick of things. Still, my heart gives a little squeeze every time I think of you over there in the heat, waiting for the word to go, to fly, to do what you signed up for. The petty part of me wants to rail a ‘why you?’ at the sky, even though I know you volunteered for this for very honorable reasons (to let others with families stay together for the holidays). But I am selfish and I will miss your smiling face around the Christmas tree when we all sit down to open presents without you.
Your nephews ask about you often, wanting to know when they’ll get to see you again to run around and play. They so enjoyed your last visit and their faces light up when I show them pictures of you from Christmases past. I’m going to print one out and put it up in a frame on the shelf in our living room where we can see it every day and do our version of praying for you to come home safe. As soon as I know where to send one, there’ll be a little care package for Christmas coming your way.
Counting the days,
Your Big Sister