A Homecoming

This past Wednesday, by way of 16 helicopters flying in pattern, the youngest member of our clan came home, after being overseas and in Iraq for nine months. There was glory in this moment: family members watching the skyline and quelling young children, men and women in sharp uniforms, a brass band, and fighter planes that cut through the skies, churning the high air with a loud roar. There's something to looking up at the sky in expectation, watching as vessels that carry beloved ones fly high overhead in formation. I hope this doesn't mean I'm a Republican.

Then all the mean were out of the helicopters, standing in formation, and then dismissed, and then he found us under the big sign with his name on it, and we were all a big jumble of tight hugs and constant contact. It was wonderful. My little bro is now 6'2 and 200 lbs. His forearms and biceps what legends of greek gods were founded on. yup. I have pictures. Now my brother will be stationed at Mirimar for the next year.

And he's changed in ways that can surely partially be attributed to living in close quarters on a muggy aircraft carrier for months. He seems more easy going, more self-assured, and more comfortable with talking to others. He is now a man.