Proud Sister of a Sailor | Teen Ink

Proud Sister of a Sailor

November 8, 2012
By Saxafras BRONZE, Defiance, Ohio
Saxafras BRONZE, Defiance, Ohio
2 articles 0 photos 0 comments

Every day as I leave for school, I look at the faded American flag my mom hung outside our front door the day Alec left for the first time, and I smile to myself. It was Mom’s idea, and we all headed downtown and bought the biggest one we found. It became the family trip we all needed--a long-awaited bonding experience in one of the most unexpected places, the checkout line at Lowes. I wonder what he’s doing right now... As I lay in my bed, staring at the ceiling, I often think about my older brother, Alec. … Probably on duty. Alec had been gone for weeks, which seemed like years.
The day my brother left proved to be an emotional day for all of us. My mother cried hysterically; my dad look away, teary-eyed; I stood watching, stiff with fear that if I moved I would burst into tears. The surface of my face felt hot, and the wall of water in front of my eyes blinded me. I didn’t want anyone to know how much I would actually miss my brother. Of course, I love him. He’s my brother, but we never showed our love for each other.

No matter how far away Alec was stationed, we were determined to attend every graduation, every ceremony, and every event in which he participated. Alec entered the Navy almost two years ago, and yet he has only come home once for Christmas. When he came home, we were once again back in brother/sister mode. “You shouldn’t do that,” I warned as he took a cigarette from a box he had hidden in his pocket. “Mom will get mad.”
“I won’t be smoking for much longer. It’s not like I can smoke on the sub,” he snapped back. He never smoked until he joined the Navy. “Seriously, everyone in the Navy smokes,” he said for the tenth time.
Once again my brother left. This time, he set off on a plane to Honolulu, Hawaii, where he would be permanently stationed. I’ll admit that almost made me want to join the Navy. I can feel the hot sun on my face whenever he sends us pictures. The pictures always show the white, sandy beaches and clear, blue skies. Oh, and all his cute, Hawaiian friends adding me on Facebook wasn’t too bad.

Today is my 17th birthday. I probably won’t hear from him today, maybe a week from now I will get the “happy birthday” text followed by a witty joke like, “How old are you now, 14?” This will be my second birthday he has missed, and that makes me realize just how long he’s been gone. It makes me wonder how many more of my birthdays he will miss. Tonight I will most likely cry into my pillow and think to myself how pathetic Alec would think I look right now if he saw me like this. “Why does she miss me? I don’t miss her,” he would think. At least that’s what I could see him saying. He’d never admit it, but he misses me just as much.

I could never survive the military. Heck, as soon as they’d tell me I couldn’t wear make up, I’d be out. He spends his days patrolling our oceans deep underwater in a cramped submarine with a bunch of other girls’ older brothers. Alec ensures us that the seas are safe, but I fear that some random act of violence will take my brother away from me forever. I torture myself with what ifs. What if war breaks out? What if an enemy sub catches them off guard? All I can do is pray that he will return home once again.
Once again, I think about the flag we purchased in honor of him. Immediately, my mom started snapping pictures of it to send to him in a photo album we’ve been putting together. Of course, now that flag is in pretty poor condition. My parents had just recently talked about buying a new one, but I disagree. That flag was put there for him, and it is now his flag. That flag should remain. As I’m backing out of the driveway with my sister in the passenger seat, I always read the many U.S. Navy bumper stickers my parents have stuck on their cars, in particular the one that states, “Proud Parent of a Sailor.” In a comical way, I become jealous and say to myself, Where’s my bumper sticker that says, ‘Proud Sister of a Sailor’?



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