On Veterans Day, a non-yoga post from my past


I have one brother.  He is 5 years older than me and has served in the United States Air Force for close to half of his life.  He has fought in this war, spent more time in the massive sandbox overseas.  He has sacrificed more than many of us will ever know.

A couple of years ago, right before he shipped out for another tour, I wrote and published this on my old blog.  Today, I know we are in the same place as we were then.  The words are still true.

I love you, Sean.  Thank you.


To My Dearest Brother,

I know we have agreed to disagree about this horrid war and the politics behind it.  I respect your opinion as I know you respect mine, even though our opinions are not the same.

I cannot believe you have to go again.  I am full of pain and rage and panic and fear and worry and sorrow and anxiety at the mere thought of you leaving.  At the same time, I am full of pride that my brother is fighting for what he believes in, even if I do not understand it.  I know that you and others are putting your lives on the line and the gravity – and perhaps honor -of that has not escaped me.

I remember listening to this song over and over and over again with you in your bedroom when we were just children.  We listened, we sang along, we believed.  I still believe.  I sing along now and tears stream down my face.  Regardless of our differences of opinion, regardless of our polarized nation, someone and something is taking my only brother away from home and putting you in harms way.  I cannot accept that graciously.

Fuck the Fortunate Son.

I love you. I am proud of you.  I honor you.  Come home safe and come home soon.

Forever putting daisies in rifles,

Your baby sister.


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