Heavy

This may get heavy.

Maybe not.

I've been thinking about family a lot this week. Part of it may be due to the Dad thing, but most of it is related to this Friday. This Friday my stepbrother leaves for Afghanistan. Okay, technically, he's my stepbrother, but he really is my brother. I knew both of his parents. My dad and his mom got married several years after his dad died in a car accident. And I've known him since he was born. I even remember when his mom was pregnant with him. So, yeah, he's been a part of my life for a very long time.

He did one tour in Iraq from 2003-04. I was concerned but for some reason I was never worried--at least I didn't think I was worried about him. I saw him right before I moved to Ye Olde College Town. The people at Ye Olde University were nice enough to let me push my start date back a week so I would see my brother while he was home on leave. I went about my life. I got email updates him. He was in an area that was relatively safe. Yet, I didn't realize how worried I was about him until Dad called to tell me my brother was in the States. As Dad was giving me the details, I realized I had tears running down my face. Tears of relief.

His first tour was during the initial move into Iraq. Now he is going to Afghanistan. And I'm worried. Genuinely worried. A friend of mine reminded me that the percentage of casualties is small compared to the number of people who actually serve. But you know, when you're worried, rational thought doesn't always work. I hear stories about people being kidnapped in Afghanistan, and I can feel my heart in my throat. I don't want anything to happen to him. At all. He's still a kid. He'd hate it if he knew I called him that.

I just want him to be safe.

I like my family, and I miss them. I moved here because I wanted to, but sometimes it is just damn hard to be so far from family.

Right now is one of those times.