Letters to My Siblings: On the Water

It's late. Sky and Shedia are fast asleep. I'm lying here in bed reaching for rest, but rest has other plans tonight.

So I'm thinking about you.

I wonder what you're doing right now on that ship. Whether you're bored out of your mind, staring at open water, or somewhere in the middle of something I'd rather not imagine. I think about whether you're okay. Whether you know we're all holding our breath a little on this side of the world.

Mom is definitely worried. When she calls, I do my best to sound calm. In my head, the more chill I am, the safer you are. I know that's not how it works. But I keep doing it anyway.

It's a strange thing, knowing someone in a war. It stops being abstract. It stops being something on the news that you feel bad about for a minute before your day pulls you somewhere else. It becomes a person. It becomes you.

I've been running through a lot of thoughts at 2am because that's what 2am is for, and somewhere in there I landed on what I believe is a genuine solution to about 99% of all armed conflict in human history. It mostly involves hand-to-hand combat between heads of state only. I'll walk you through the full theory when you're back on solid ground. You'll

probably call it a lecture. You'd be right. But you'll find it interesting, just like you always do.

You know I'm not going to wrap this up without saying what actually needs to be said. Stay safe. Come home. And everyone out there in uniform with you, I'm holding them in my thoughts too.

We're all praying. Every one of us.

Talk soon,

Your big bro