Military Nightmare

I saw the newspaper sitting on our granite island this morning. On the front page of the National Post was a picture of Canadian troops in Afghanistan and a headline saying that troops may be staying in Afghanistan past the 2011 deadline. I cried.

My brother giving me away

My brother is in the military. He is in the infantry and loves his job. He's a typical male; most days I am sure that the biggest draw for him, along with the structured environment, is that he gets to shoot huge guns and blow things up. He's a man's man. He likes beer, Halo, driving his truck, UFC, and explosions. The military was a natural transition for him. I wish I could say the same for me.

When my brother left for basic training initially, I was a wreck. That was the catalyst to a long period of depression where I lost my appetite for food and fun entirely (along with 25 pounds I probably didn't have). I am lucky that my husband (we were dating at the time) was so strong for me. The day that my brother left, I went with my parents to the airport. I managed to hold it together for the most part, cried a little as he was about to go through security, took one last hug and looked back to wave, and then sat in silence as my parents drove me back to my car. My husband, who lived in Calgary at the time, was in Edmonton that weekend, and by the time I got home he had already let himself into my house. We went out for lunch, and as I drove to the restaurant my eyes filled with uncontrollable tears. I have never felt so alone.

For the next two weeks straight, I would cry these tears of immense sadness for hours on end. I would sit and watch a comedy, but would not laugh, and tears would silently fall from my face. I didn't sleep, I didn't eat, and I didn't understand. I had no idea why I was so sad. My brother and I were close, meaning we had experienced a lot of things together both good and bad, but I never expected that him leaving would affect me so deeply. I was blindsided by utter grief, and it took months for me to be able to explain it.

I would sit with my counsellor, weeping, trying so hard to work through letting go of him while progressing in what I was there for; the abuse that was suffered when I was a child. I felt like I was getting no where. I felt like no one could help me, especially if I couldn't in some way help myself. I felt like the only person who could understand and who was on my side was gone. I later made some very devastating realizations about my relationship with him, but I will get into those at another time. They deserve their own space.

Back to this morning. My brother is being deployed next year. I knew this was coming. Overseas missions is the whole purpose of the military. But I had found some solace in the deadline. Knowing that Canadian troops were not going to be occupying Afghanistan in any way after December 31st, 2011, was comforting to me. But as I suspected, that could change in the next couple weeks. Canadian authorities, such as the defence minister, have been getting pressure from all sides lately. The Portuguese government, according to today's paper, has told Stephen Harper, and even Canadian entertainment acts, that they are not welcome there unless they make some kind of commitment to stay in Afghanistan.The Danish defense minister has also been in talks with ours, playing on our duty as allies.

I knew this would happen. It just terrifies me. It scares me that even though this a peaceful mission, he could die. I won't be able to see him again. It's bad enough that I will go nearly a year without seeing him, and probably won't hear from him often, if at all. And I have another brother who is eagerly awaiting the time when he comes of age and can enlist. That is about 7 months away. My heart will be ripped out once again (not quite to the same extent).

I'm not really sure how to take the news, how to process it, how to support my brothers with my whole heart. I love them and don't want to see anything happen to them, but I can never stand in the way of what they want. I selfishly wish that I could sometimes. But I can't. I shouldn't. I won't. So how do I support them, like I have always promised that I would, with this brokenness? With prayer and time and the Lord I will be able to one day. But for now I am conflicted and human.

-SP