Wordless Wednesday

📷: Technically, credit goes to my uncle for this one. 

My Brother - My Hero Pt. II

When my brother was gifted his first G.I. Joe he became obsessed with the military. When he was in his early teens he would have basic training videos, and documentaries playing all of the time. Then he’d go out and try them himself. His DVD collection mainly consisted of military films. Any chance we had to visit the military surplus store in a town about an hour away we would. And one time he actually spent a week out in this field next to our house. "Preparing for basic training," he told me. He had a backpack, a twenty-two, a canteen of water, and some "light snacks" (which translated to beef jerky and Hershey's Cookies & Cream bars). By day four I had to threaten him with bodily harm if he didn't come inside to take a shower. It probably wasn't until he turned sixteen that the seriousness of it all really hit me. My brother was going to do this for real. He was going to join the military one day, and I wasn't really sure how to feel about it. 

Originally he wanted to join the Marines when he turned seventeen, but when he asked my parents to sign the paperwork my mother refused. Though now she denies that ever happened. Then when he was a few years older he tried again. However, they refused him on the grounds that he had a homeschool diploma. A few months later he tried again, but he had been flagged in their system. That's when he decided to try the Army, but he ended up being denied due to some of the previous issues he encountered with the Marines. So, after that last denial he decided it was time to put this dream away. He had tried. He wanted to serve his country, but they wouldn't have him. On with life we must go, you know? I won't lie, and say that I wasn't a tiny bit relieved. It's scary to think of your loved one wanting a job that requires them to be gone for months at a time. To be deployed to a country that they could very well die in. And even though it sucked some major balls that he couldn't serve I felt like I could breathe a little easier. But not seeing that little spark in his eyes, when he'd talk about the military, anymore made me feel horrible about my own relief. It left me feeling really sad for him, and I couldn't help but dwell on the unfairness of it all. 

So, back in March when I got a call from my brother I was really surprised when he told me the news. "Hey, so I joined the Army. I need my social to retake a test next week can you meet me with it? I passed this test today with flying colors they said, and the next one is a formality to make sure I didn't cheat or have help. But I'm in! I'll be off to basic in a few weeks." And everything stopped. I whooped, and hollered. Had he been standing in front of me I would have tackled him. I was so damn proud, y'all! It wasn't until I got off of the phone that I realized, "Oh, shit. He's going to be a soldier." Now maybe it's age, the fact that we've grown so much over the years, but the fear didn't grab a hold as it once had. Yes, it was still scary. But what in life isn't? If this is what my baby brother wanted then I was behind him 110%. I didn't have any doubts that he'd get through this at the top of his class. That he'd kick ass, and take names. Because he lived for this. He thrived on it. This is what gave him the feeling of purpose. And I’d be damned if anyone tried to take away the excitement I could clearly hear in his voice. So, over the course of the next few weeks we took turns visiting. One weekend we’d all go up there, and the next they’d come to see us. We all spent a lot of time together because we weren’t sure when we’d see him again. The majority of us were happy because my brother was happy. My mother, unfortunately, was a different story. I can't fault her for it. He is her only son, and the baby. But well into the second week of him being away we had to have a little conversation. It took her awhile, but she eventually accepted that this was happening. This was the future he wanted.

Which brings us to April 22nd. This was the day my brother was sent out to Fort Benning to start basic training. And when I say that the military is slow as fuck, multiply that by ten. I get that they're in basic training, and technically the Army doesn't have to allow them to contact home at all. But since they do give them certain privileges you'd think that they'd be a bit more efficient. But nooooo. So, we waited. And waited. When we finally heard some news it consisted of a twenty second phone call, and then it was radio silence again. We weren't sure if we could write, or not. If you’re familiar with basic training then you know that sometimes the guys get smoked, or have extra work attached to their already tiresome day as "punishment" when they’re sent stuff from home before it’s allowed. We didn't want to be the cause of that so we didn’t have much choice but to wait. However, this didn’t keep me from searching all over the internet for information. I found the Facebook pages, and the military pages. I downloaded PDF samples of their schedule, and estimated where I thought he was at in training. I downloaded Sandboxx, which is pricey, but also worth it, in order to send him a letter to check on him. And then, on the weekend before my nephew’s first birthday I was stuck in traffic trying to make my way up to visit my sister-in-law for a girls weekend when my mother called. “Carlos got hurt. It’s his leg. He may not be able to continue.” I held my breath -- 1…2…3… 

This was the worst news. After quizzing my mom over the phone the only information I had was that they had been out in the field, and another soldier accidentally caused the injury. My brother was at a hospital, and my sister-in-law would be able to tell me more once I got there. Of course I thought it was a broken leg at the worst, or a sprain at the best. He’d walk this off, and be back at it in no time. He would be okay. Now, remember what I said about the military being slow? Yea, they work just as slow in giving answers about injuries. The silver lining was that my brother was able to call home every day while at the hospital. It wasn’t until a week later that my sister-in-law was able to tell us that his initial injury would heal, and would not be the cause of a medical discharge. But they had found something else in his x-rays that the doctor’s found troubling. This something else turned out to be an issue with his knee cap, and cartilage. It wasn’t causing any issues at the moment, but there was a problem. And they weren’t sure if my brother would be able to serve three years without causing his knee even more damage or having to have surgery. His recovery could potentially take up to a year, if not more, which would not benefit the Army whatsoever. Since that conversation we’ve been told that regardless, surgery will be in his future, it’s just not known when. Could be a few months, or could be years. So, his commanders had to have meetings. His doctor’s had to have meetings. He had to talk to several people over the course of several days in regards to his options. And then last week Kim called to let me know that after the board meeting my brother was told that he would be getting discharged. Chapter 5-11. It could take up to two months before he was sent home though. I held my breath -- 1… 2... 3... 

I was lucky enough to talk to my brother several times during this whole process. And while he was laying in a hospital bed with a leg that refused to cooperate with him I asked about how training had been going. He told us stories about the other soldiers, and his sergeants. He talked to us about some funny moments, and being made fun of for his dinosaur of a cell phone. He told me about the early morning exercises, and obstacles. How they had switched him up to Mortar Company which was a promotion due to how well he was doing. He was two days shy of completing the navigation phase, and there was talks of him being platoon leader material. He let out a sigh, “It’s been fun. Basic isn’t as bad as others make it out to be. I like the other guys. I like the drill sergeants. I’m having a great time here.” The following weekend, just days before he was given the final decision, he told me that he was okay with whatever the outcome came to be. “If they decide I’m worth keeping then I’m going to finish this, and give them my all. But if they decide I’m too much of a liability, well then, I’m just happy to have been given the opportunity to try. I’m proud to have made it this far.” All weekend I was hoping for a Hail Mary. I was hoping that he could be re-classed. Or that he’d be able to come home, fix the issue, and then try again. That last one might be a possibility depending on what RE code gets stamped on his file, but it could take awhile. And by then he might have already aged out. Or he might not want to go through the process of applying for the waivers needed? I’ve read that it can be a son of a bitch. Or life could get in the way? Or he and his wife may come to the conclusion that the military life is not something they can handle as they’re getting older? And as my nephew gets older too. Maybe my brother sees this as the final sign that he should shelve the dream for good? Or time may not be his friend in the end? 

So, today I’m a little heartbroken. I’m sad for my brother. Probably more so than he is because I can tell he’s taking this all in stride. “Whatever happens, happens. I’m not worried about it.” I’m just really upset that one of his dreams was within reach, and it all came crashing down due to an accident. The plus side is that we now know there’s an issue so I’m grateful for that. Still, I would have loved to see him graduate in August. I would have loved to see my baby brother stand up with the rest of his unit, serving heart on full display, and finally getting to do what he’s always wanted. I was more than willing to drop everything on my weekends to make sure his family was taken care of while he was away. So my sister-in-law wouldn’t be alone. I would have written him five letters a week the entire time he was away. I had actually already started. And I would have gladly been there to lend my support in anyway that he needed. I know this sounds a little "doom 'n' gloom" right now, and I’m focusing more on the negative. I know, y’all. It just really sucks! I really wanted this for him. He would have been amazing at it. But don't worry, I am taking stock in the good too. I just needed to let these frustrations out. I know that the most important thing right now is that he’s okay. That this issue was caught early. That he’s coming home. Though that’s a long ass process on it’s own. And whatever he decides to go after next I can only hope that I’ll be here to cheer him on from the sidelines. And no matter what, Carlos, you’ll always be my hero. I love you, you long legged freak of nature. Here’s to the next adventure!

My Brother - My Hero Pt. I

TRIGGER WARNING: SELF INJURY, DEPRESSION, AND SUICIDE ARE ADDRESSED IN THIS POST.

It's okay, you can totally laugh at this picture. We went through a phase. 

Wordless Wednesday

Kim & Carlos

Last year my brother got married. I had started to write about it, but for some reason I have about three pages worth that I never published. It was a beautiful ceremony, and I'll probably get around to posting the pictures one day. For now, I'd like to just keep them to myself for a bit. Anyway, he and my sister-in-law had been together for ten years so the wedding had been in the works for awhile. And then that August they made the move to Nacogdoches. So this marks two years that we haven't been together to celebrate our birthdays. And when I say "WE" I mean ALL of us. We all have birthdays within seven days of each other. 

So, Happy Birthday to my lovely sister-in-law Kim (Oct. 24th), and Happy Birthday to my baby brother Carlos (Oct. 25th). When I called him to sing "Happy Birthday" his response was "You know I'm 27 right? Not sure little applies anymore." And my reply was "Well, you'll always be younger than me so the title stays." Then he made some smart ass comment about how old I was getting, and he's lucky he wasn't here in person or there would have been a purple nurple being given. Little shit. But I love them. I'm sad we aren't all close by like we used to be. It was tradition that we'd all get together for dinner with our parents, and spend it talking over good food and a ton of laughs. I miss it. I miss them. BUT I am super proud of everything they are taking on, and achieving. I'm blessed to be able to communicate with them regularly, and to see them in person from time to time. And I am so grateful for the year we were all given. So to you guys: I love you so much! And I wish you many more years ahead. See y'all for Thanksgiving! 

Figure Something Out

We are broke. Like, negative in our accounts broke. It’s not fun, and it’s not easy. Not stating this for sympathy, it's just our current situation. When my husband quit his old job we already had a back up job in the works for him. Then that fell through, and the downside of living in a small town is that there’s hardly every any job openings. So he was at home for 9 months. Needless to say we drained through our savings. Then, last month a friend of ours helped him get a job at a restaurant in a neighboring town running the kitchen. We are so grateful for him to finally be working, but he’s working for minimum wage and less than 30 hours a week. So even though it helps, it’s not enough to cover all of the bills now that my parents are gone. I honestly have no idea how we’re going to get by.

So yesterday, my brother and Kim called me asking about how much the bills were costing? They asked if I’d consider letting them move in with us as soon as their lease was up this month. I let them know how much everything cost. I let him know that I wouldn't be offended if they’d rather stay where they’re at and just resign a new lease than come out to our house. Because I won’t. So we left it at them thinking it over, and me leaving the spare room empty until they decided.

To say that them moving in would help me out is a huge understatement. Splitting the bills is the only way I see us getting by. It would be a huge weight off of my shoulders. But as soon as I mentioned the idea to my husband, he wasn't too pleased. He likes us being on our own and having the privacy. He likes it being just the tree of us. So I had to remind him that realistically, we’d end up having the electricity cut off on us around Christmas if we didn't figure something out. THIS was the only way I saw us getting any type of breathing room when it comes to finances. So if they did decide to move in with us, he’d just have to suck it up. Unless he can find a job that pays $13-16 per hour, we need to figure something else out, and my brother even considering moving in with us should be looked at as a blessing.

But it’s still a big IF. They could decide that it wouldn't be reasonable, financially for them to be so far away from work and school. And I’d be back at square one, trying to figure out what to do. But we’ll cross that bridge when we get to it. Until then, I have to stay positive about things. I have to keep moving forward.

For My Brother On His Birthday

You are my rock

&

I love you. 

A Mud Run

Before I get into the main topic of my post today, I’d just like to say that our weekend did not go as planned. My husband and I were planning to have a nice night out on Saturday after the mud run. Then we were planning on going to the Aquarium on Sunday morning followed by lunch with a friend and his family. That didn’t happen. And as bummed as we were, we decided we’d just try again in a few weeks. :)  Silver lining.

Dad (far left), Brother (center)

Anyway, this past Saturday my brother and my dad competed in the “Original Mud Run” of Dallas/ Fort Worth with one of five company teams that FMC had formed. Of course, I went to cheer them on, and encourage them as they went through the course. I’m that person that’s running along side whenever possible. Regardless of what people say, those obstacles looked pretty tough. To add to the level of difficulty competitors had to wear pants and combat boots. At first it sounded like it would be pretty fun. Then, I found out that they had signed up for the 10k run not the 5k. Yup, they were insane.

We followed them along and met up at certain obstacles and check points. Emery came along too and she had so much fun. She wanted to keep running with me but after about a mile of us running to meet the guys my mom came and got her because she was thirsty and she looked pretty tired. But she cheered on her grandpa and uncle when she recognized them. It was pretty awesome. I was so proud of my dad and my brother for both kicking a lot of ass on Saturday. One of the conditions placed on teams is that they all had to cross either together or within 15 seconds of each other. And you’re only as strong as your weakest member. So even though they didn’t win a prize or a medal, I’m pretty sure their time was average and they all crossed together. I’m anxiously waiting for the site to post the results.

Unfortunately, a tragedy did take place at the event. A young man went missing and was found in the river on Sunday morning along the course route. Also, a women on one of our coed teams had to be transported out by ambulance during the race. So even though these events are supposed to be fun and challenging, they can be very dangerous. This a result of poor planning, and lack of vigilant personnel. According to the website (and at the event itself) they stated that you didn’t need to know how to swim, there would be lifeguards at each crossing of the Trinity River, alternate routes, plenty of volunteers would be present at the obstacles, and they would have paramedics on site. 

I was there, and none of these were even close to accurate. Ambulances had to be called to the site. I watched at each of the river crossings and there were no lifeguards. Only one alternate route that I could see, and due to only one entry point at each crossing people would all just jump in at once. This caused the rope to be pulled under while people were trying to hold on. Also, many contestants were being accidently pushed off into the river or kicked in the face. There were many “almost” drowning's. There were no volunteers directing the groups, or at every obstacle like there should have been. In fact, one of the 5k “waves” that had gone earlier that day ended up taking the 10k route because many of them didn’t know the route. It was such a jumbled mess. I would think that with such a well known event they would have had better coordinating teams, trained volunteers, and decent safety precautions in place. But I saw none.

My brother saved two people from drowning on Saturday. One of them came up to him after the race and thanked him. He told me that he himself had almost drowned. Now, my brother’s a really good swimmer so this was a shock to me. But he said it was chaotic. He had the air knocked out of him while trying to push a contestant that was struggling to stay afloat out of the water. Had his team mate not turned around and saw him sink, he says he very well could have died. This is such a scary thing for me. To know that someone actually died, in the same “wave” as my brother and father, while crossing the same river hits so close to home. No one saw the man go under. No one on land was paying attention. This very well could have been my dad or my brother. And that’s terrifying. It’s such an awful thing that could have been avoided and I feel awful for the family and friends of this man. It’s also really sad that it took something like this to bring to light the many flaws involved with this event. 

Thankfully, none of our guys were hurt. Thankfully, they all did really well. And thankfully, they all crossed together, as a team. I'm so proud of all of them. They did such a great job.

p.s. With the lack of safety precautions at this event, 

my brother has said that he probably won't participate 

in this specific mud run again unless they coordinate it better. 

Old Writtings- Baby Brother

Ok, so when I have these ideas for topics to write about, or if I randomly think of something I'd like to share on my blog I write it in my email and save the draft. Well, some of those posts sometimes end up staying there. So today, I was cleaning out some of those posts when I came across one that I did about my brother! It was on 12/15/2010, and I decided to post it on here because I truly love my little brother. He's awesome, even when I'm wanting to beat the everliving crap out of him!! LOL! And here it is:

I have a fear of losing my brother.

Emotionally

Ever since we were kids, I looked after my BABY brother. I beat kids up for him. I taught him how to pick his outfits, and what badass music was. I did his hair for school, and I even played “pretend war” with him. I packed his backpack every night, read him books, and helped him with homework. My pride and joy; being the protector. The caregiver. The big sister.

Then we got older and overnight he was taller than me, handling his own battles, doing his own hair, choosing his own clothes, and no longer playing “pretend war”. But we got along, and our interests kept us close. People actually thought that because we got along so well, that our relationship was more than brotherly/sisterly. That boiled our blood. (We called people out on it, but no one ever owned up to starting the rumor.) But we were raised to love each other. We always hugged! And if we fought we had to hug and kiss each other's backs (that happened only once). So we felt that just because everyone else didn’t get along with their own family, that didn’t mean we had to be the same way with ours. Then, I started partying/drinking and it seemed like the roles switched. All of a sudden he was taking care of me! He was making sure no one took advantage of me, threatening anyone who even THOUGHT of hurting me, and driving my drunk ass home. He saved me, from me. But not once did he tell me that he was the “big brother”. He let me think that all of the ideas were mine. Not once told me I was wrong.

Next, I moved away to California. And I spoke to him pretty much EVERY day. He had shaved his head, grown a beard, and was dressing the exact opposite of how he had been when I was at home. He was living his own life. Making his own decisions, and doing his own thing. BUT he was still the same funny, down to earth, anime watching, loveable, and carrying BABY brother. I could totally add to that list of attributes because trust me it goes on and on, but you guys would fall in love and he’s already taken. Sorry! But anywho, he had changed and was now on his way to becoming his own person. On his path to becoming a man.

Now, I’m back home and my brother is living BETWEEN homes. Sometimes he stays with us, and others (most of the time) he stays with his girlfriend. –Ahem- Kim, you bee-otch, BRING HIM BACK!! Or at least make him come visit during the week, GEES! Now, back to my point- He’s always close by, but recently, I haven’t gotten to see him as often. The little twirp never comes by (only on weekends)!! And my role as the big sister is FADING....fast! Actually, I think it’s pretty much gone he just lets me THINK that it’s still there.... sometimes... when he’s feeling generous. Maybe. 

So, I feel as if we’ve grown apart. Like we are really, officially, our own people. That sibling empathy and that bond we had defended constantly seems to have faded. We used to do everything together! Movies, going out to eat, hanging out at Hastings or Wal-Mart! Even just being at home listening to records (yes, vinyl records) while laying on the living room floor talking. I know that we are growing up and starting our lives, but some part of me can’t help but feel as if this is our OWN fault. We could be just as close as ever if we took the time. We could still have that psychic “I know what independent film you want to watch without you saying a word” ability. But, we are now our own people, with our own lives, and we don’t set aside time to keep those “traditions” alive. We don’t seem to have the time these days. And now that my brother is finally a man, with his own future wife, there is no need for that bond we had, because he gets THAT and more from her. And that’s OK! I get the same from my husband. But, I still miss him. I miss my baby brother. I miss our friendship.

Physically

I remember the day that Niselda, my cousin, died. I felt as if my heart had been ripped out and my throat had closed. My heart was broken and I was no longer breathing. I cried for months; still do sometimes. But, I couldn’t possibly imagine what Nasalia, her sister, felt. That hurt and sorrow. That anger, and that despair. That light being taken, and replaced with a huge hole. A hole that could never be filled. I could imagine these things, but only if I had gone through it myself could I ever truly comprehend those feelings.

Lately, I’ve been having dreams of my brother dying. Two dreams every week, for the past 6 weeks, each one different than the one before. I’ve chalked it up to them being about my fear of losing this bond that we have. But the dreams are still, VERY real. And each time, I wake up feeling as if he’s really gone. I literally have to convince myself that it was a dream. Talk myself back to reality, if you will. And it hurts. Those feeling of helplessness, excruciating pain, and loneliness that hit me all at once, as soon as I open my eyes, is so real. I’ve woken up a few times crying. That weight and dread coming off my heart as soon as I realize it WAS just a dream, is such an indescribable kind of happiness and relief. I don’t know what I would do if I ever lost him..? I don’t know how I’d function, or how I could ever get that “light” back into my heart. My brother is my rock. The one who can smack me back into reality. The one who can straight up tell me when I’m being an idiot, and it be ok. He’s been one of my best friends. Sometimes, I look up to him.    

I can’t imagine my life without my brother in it. I can’t see us not each having a couple of children and watching them grow up together. Us arguing over who’s got more grey hair. Having family gatherings. Still fighting over Alien vs. Predator (Alien won, for sure!). I just can’t see him not being here. So, as you can imagine these dreams have been freaking me out! And I’ve felt fear. I almost want to pick up the phone and call him each time I wake up from these dreams just to make sure he’s ok. But, knowing him, he wouldn’t answer and I’d assume the worst and freak out. Not once considering the fact that it’s 2 o’ clock in the morning and he’s probably passed out, trying to get as much sleep as he can before having to wake up at 4:30. But then, if he did answer, and he found out the reason for my calling, oh man I’d get it. LOL! Not right away, but later that day, I’d get a “Psht, THAT’S why you called me? Because of a dream? You woke me up from my deep, much needed, slumber BECAUSE OF A DREAM?!?! RAQUEL!!! What the crap?!?! I’m not answering the phone at that hour again!” So I don’t even attempt those phone calls. I know better.

I know that we all die. It’s inevitable. But being taken too soon is something that always gets to me. And I pray every night for my family’s protection. Because I have that fear. Like I stated in my previous post, I’m afraid of not being vigilant enough with my daughter. And that, that mistake might one day cost me. I’m constantly afraid of my husband up and leaving me. Afraid that one day (especially with OUR pasts) that someone might hurt him, or worse. But more on those topics at another time. I’m just scared. Again, I feel that these dreams are more like my minds reflection/interpretation of my fears. So, I’m trying to put it aside. The dreams still freak me out, and I guess they will continue until I settle this conflict within myself.

My baby brother is no longer a baby. He knows right from wrong (more so than I do). He can take care of himself. He can make his own decisions. He has and will live his own life. And I have to learn to let go.

I'm glad to report that Kim did bring him back, lol! We do get to see each other a lot more. The dreams have stopped, and I have let go! I'm good with knowing that we are going to take different paths in life and that we aren't children anymore. We are living our own lives, and no matter what we will always have those memories! Those times made us who we are today. It's something that we'll show our own kids. To love each other and never take each other for granted. Our bond will never be completely severed, it's just more of a "grown" bond. Beau can't take it away, and neither can Kim. But we each love our significant others more and differently, you know? It's our time to start on our own. I'm sure Kim can take care of him and protect him as well as I ever could, so I'm passing the torch on to her. 

So Kim, take care of him ok? And when he says his bones hurt, make him slow down and not push himself so much. Force him if you have to! LOL! Make sure he doesn't stay up too late either, because then he has a problem staying up during the day, and I know a few times that he's almost fallen asleep at the wheel! Bad, bad, bad! And just know that my brother loves you! We all love you (never doubt that), and I'm just waiting for the day that I get to go ring shopping with him!! LOL! But never feel bad for setting a bitch straight when she thinks she can get in the way of that, ok? You have my number if you need a truck and shovels. :-D 

Love, 

Your Future Sister-In-Law