Freedom

I remember when he came into my life.

He was a baby. He was new. He was mine.

He was my brother. I was proud to have his as my brother.

Mom said I bonded quickly. She said I talked about him a lot.

This is “my brother” I would say.

I have to admit, it hasn’t changed. I still tell everyone about “my brother.”

Today my brother left for the US Army. Today my brother left to fight for freedom.

Ironically, however, Freedom isn’t free.

Freedom is watching my mother weep over saying goodbye to her youngest.

Freedom is feeling my heart clinch while I hug him for just 30 seconds more before I walk away.

Freedom is seeing grown men cry at the sight of the American flag.

Freedom are the goose bumps I get every single time I stand and sing along to our National Anthem.

Freedom are the tears that have been shed for the lives lost at war.

Freedom is young men and women all over this world giving their all for a country they believe in.

Freedom is my country.

Freedom is my brother.

A lot of things have changed over the years as Laird and I have grown up.

The thing that hasn’t changed, amidst all the trials and pains of life, I’m still proud of him.

I’m proud of my brother.

I’m proud that he is going to fight for our freedom, for our country.

My brother, my soldier, my roll-of-the-eyes when he says something stupid, my laughter at every Christmas taking pictures for mom, my “it’s going to be ok Neen, I promise” when I start to stress the trials of life.

My brother. I miss you already. Stay strong, fight hard and keep your eyes on Jesus. After all, when it comes down to it, He is our true Freedom.