My brother is going to Afghanistan. He isn't a soldier. He's the photographer, writer and filmographer for a fitness company. He is going to film soldiers working out on an airbase. It will take him days on planes and hours on bumpy dirt roads to get there.
At one point, I imagine he'll think, I'm glad Mom can't see me now. At another point, I imagine he'll think, I wish Dad could see me now.
I just hope his big muscles and bravery can protect him from hidden road side bombs, airplane crashes and frantically flying bullets. These thoughts are far worse when written, but I currently do not have any sugar in the pantry to coat them with so please chew them slowly and wash them down with water.
I fear Patrick's death. Why wouldn't I? He's my brother.
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ReplyDeleteI have complete confidence in Patrick's ability to avoid all danger. And I am sure he will not let me down!
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