EmbassyRow
Active Member
- Joined
- Mar 21, 2003
- Messages
- 1,736
I don't ever talk about anything important on here. I mean ever. This place has always been my release at the end of the day. I've had so many great laughs from the things I've read here, but this is a real departure for me. So if I seem melodramatic or flat-out silly, my apologies. Bear with me here.
I have a little brother in the military. He volunteered for a deployment to Iraq this summer. I don't want to give too many details, y'understand, but I can say that he's got a relatively important job and should be well-protected on a base. He won't be in a walking-the-beat area or anything like that. Still, he's my little brother. My best friend in the world. I worry.
I had to take the obligatory in-the-event-of-my-demise phone call from him tonight. Finding out what I'd be willed, funeral plans, what songs he would want played (I insisted on "Ripple" by the Grateful Dead, which he introduced to me), the kind of gathering he would want, etc. should anything terrible happen to him.
I'm convinced he'll be as safe as he can be. I'm convinced he'll do his job and come home. But I can't help but feel really frightened and really vulnerable right now. I pride myself on being strong in tough times, in putting on a brave face. I'd never admit it to my family, but just the thought of it makes me crack.
I'd appreciate any advice you might have. That's the toughest phone call I've ever taken (and I can only hope it remains the toughest phone call I ever take).
I have a little brother in the military. He volunteered for a deployment to Iraq this summer. I don't want to give too many details, y'understand, but I can say that he's got a relatively important job and should be well-protected on a base. He won't be in a walking-the-beat area or anything like that. Still, he's my little brother. My best friend in the world. I worry.
I had to take the obligatory in-the-event-of-my-demise phone call from him tonight. Finding out what I'd be willed, funeral plans, what songs he would want played (I insisted on "Ripple" by the Grateful Dead, which he introduced to me), the kind of gathering he would want, etc. should anything terrible happen to him.
I'm convinced he'll be as safe as he can be. I'm convinced he'll do his job and come home. But I can't help but feel really frightened and really vulnerable right now. I pride myself on being strong in tough times, in putting on a brave face. I'd never admit it to my family, but just the thought of it makes me crack.
I'd appreciate any advice you might have. That's the toughest phone call I've ever taken (and I can only hope it remains the toughest phone call I ever take).