Journal #27 (the actual one)

I do not even want to fathom being in the army.  My second brother Taylor enlisted right out of high school into the army reserves.  He went through basic training and eventually only had to go in once a month.  Then, when I was in eighth grade, Taylor was told he was going to be deployed to Iraq for a year.  Obviously this is not a preferable thing to happen in any family or person.  I was not even very close to Taylor at this time, but it still hit hard.  He was going to leave from Washington DC around Thanksgiving.  Myself, my twin, my mom and Taylor's girlfriend all flew out to Washington DC to spend time with him before he left.  We went sigh seeing and ate Thanksgiving at starbucks.  It was great.  Then came the time for us leave him for the last time.  It sucked.  He was my brother and he was leaving to go fight a whole bunch of people with guns.  Even though it did suck, I couldn't help but feel prideful about it, too.  He had committed himself to fighting for our country across an ocean.  He was only nineteen at the time and he was willing to be hundreds of miles away from home fighting for our safety.  I was one proud sister.  So I do not know how it feels to personally be hundreds of miles away fighting for your country, but I do know how it feels to be under the impression that one of your family members is going to do that.  My family was fortunate enough that Taylor had a lot of health problems during that time and was not allowed to be deployed.  It sucked because he had really gotten himself in the mindset and was ready, but at the same time when he came home and surprised my mom well that was pretty much the best thing in the entire world.