Family

Family
 
I just got a call out of the blue from my brother. Daniel is the baby of the family and at the ripe old age of 21, he has been in the Australian Army for nearly four years. We were really lucky that after his initial training at Kapooka, he was based at Swanbourne, so even though he lived on base, we could still see him and catch up with him fairly regularly. 18 months ago he was transferred to Brisbane, so we have been restricted to Christmas visits and the odd drunken phone call when he remembers his dear old sis at 11pm randomly.
 
I think you know where this story is heading.
 
The call today was prefaced with 'you are going to hate this'. Instantly my brain went to pregnancy news (cos that's how I roll). Of course I was wrong. It's better, yet worse. My brother is going to Afghanistan. He is thrilled to bits, and is glad that he is going to have the opportunity to be involved in the efforts there, and put into action all the things he has trained for. But I am in shock. I knew it was a possibility, I mean -it's the army, it's purpose is war. But still… he's my baby brother. I still see him in my head as the baby faced 13 year old who shows me tricks on his skateboard. I know he is an adult, and I have no doubt of his awesomeness - come on, he is my brother afterall. But I can't help being scared.