If y’all know me, you know I have an interesting family dynamic (but, honestly, don’t we all?). My folks divorced when I was a kid, and, to be honest, I still have some hostility about it (why yes, I do hold grudges, why do you ask?).
Because of this, I basically started adopting family members. I had a second “mom”, several “sisters”, a “big brother”, and, at some point, I gained a “baby brother”.
His mom worked with my dad and our families became really close. He was a total pain in the ass, but, I loved him like a brother. We were really close for years. He got to high school when I was a senior and I remember taking him home from school all the time, picking him up for basketball games and getting a fountain Coke and Hot Tamales at the market. And I’m pretty sure he duped me into getting him lunch on my off campus period.
He made me laugh, he picked on me, he hit on my friends, but, most importantly, he was there when it mattered. He was my little brother, after all.
And then, suddenly, he wasn’t so little anymore. He’s a grown up. And now, he’s a soldier.
I had the opportunity to see him a few weeks ago when he was on his way back to the West Coast for R&R. Things in the Army are always changing and it wasn’t until the night before when he emailed me from Germany that I knew it was a go.
I got to the airport bright and early, joined by military families and waited. And waited. And waited. And finally, my baby brother—who’s no longer a baby, was there. Standing in front of me, in his uniform and looking like a regular soldier.
I gave him the biggest hug I think I’ve ever given anyone and tried my damndest not to cry.
I was too flustered to get out my camera, but, these are a few pictures captured by the volunteers at the airport.


We had a few minutes together and I took him to his next gate, and we had a few minutes to laugh and just
be. He made fun of my height. I tried to talk him out of moving to Florida when he gets out of the Army. He refused to let me help him carry his bags. He picked on my hair (it was humid, ok!), and I stood in awe of the man he’s become.
A final hug goodbye and “I’ll see you in two weeks” and he was off--headed home.
And I was fine. Until the little bastard wrote on my Facebook status. And then I lost it.

I’m so grateful to all the military families and friends. To those who sacrifice for us. I’m so blessed to have the freedoms I do, because of their service.
Thank you.
PS. Ladies, he’s single.