Well Done, Sailor

 This weekend was one that is not to be forgotten.
My little brother of 18 graduated Naval basic on Friday February 7th. He has been away at the Great Lakes Navy base going through training for 8 weeks. I was happy and lucky enough to receive many letters from him as well as a few phone calls!
Either way, it was a long 8 weeks. Especially with celebrating Christmas and New Years for the first time without him.

We left on the car ride to Chicago Thursday evening with my parents, sisters and I and my brother's mutual friend, Josh.
We got to the hotel around 11 Thursday night, meeting our Aunt Mary who flew in from Florida.
After only like 5 hours of sleep, my parents, aunt and I were off to the graduation.
Of course we would have to wait an hour in line - outside - to gain admittance to the ceremony. And of course, it would be -5 outside. I don't think I've ever been more freezing in my life!
When we finally got inside and found a seat the ceremony started. As all of the divisions marched in from a door leading outside, I was basically jumping out of my skin waiting for Matthew. I wanted to see him! See him in his new uniform, see if he looked any different!

Division 088

When him and his Division got in the door and came down the isle way, I found him! He looked so grown up. As soon as we were allowed to go find them downstairs and they announced liberty I took off. I found him right away! I've never missed my brother so much. I didn't want to stop hugging him.

He did look older. Much older. In his blue uniform with his cap on.

We only had from noon until 7:30, when he had to be back on base. Then he was stuck there again until 1:00am when we would meet him at the airport for a few hours before his flight.

When we got him back to the hotel, we celebrated a late Christmas with him. I think he was pretty excited to open some presents. Josh and my sisters had decorated the room while we were gone; lights, a mini tree, and even Christmas music!
He told us stories from basic; how his friends would call him "cinnamon stick" because they couldn't pronounce Simoncic. (Don't worry Matthew, I've already got the Apple Jacks cinna-mon printed out, waiting for your face to be pasted on.) How his favorite part of basic was cleaning the bathrooms because they could goof off in there. And how he didn't like wearing the assigned "skivvies" so he didn't, and others followed suit. Then they got in trouble.

Matthew wanted to go to downtown Chicago for our day together, so that's what we did. We went to the Hershey store, and other places on Michigan Avenue. If only it wasn't so cold! He would have graduation on a day that was below zero. But we did really enjoy going to the famous Giordano's Pizza for some Chicago deep dish. And it was fantastic. I had a great time seeing my brother in a daily task as simple as eating together. 

We had to get him back by 7:30, and we did. Even through traffic on Chicago highways, during rush hour, on a Friday. Back on base, (and through the trip) I think I've bought enough Navy and "Proud Navy Sister" apparel enough to last me 10 years. I think that's okay though. I'm allowed to be proud. And so are my parents. And basically anyone that knows him.
My family and I got a quick doze back at the hotel from about 9pm-1am and then it was off to O'Hare. Which was about a 45 minute drive. It felt like nothing though; we had energy drinks and skittles and I was ready to spend all night there if it meant getting more time with him! After wandering around baggage claims and terminals, we found the USO lodgings and terminal where all the sailors were waiting- Mounds of green duffle bags and back packs laying around, a few families sitting with their Navy loved-ones waiting for boarding. We sort of created our own pow-wow circle by a grouping of bags and just sat. We ate our candy and just...hung out. And it was fantastic.
Do we realize in today's world how often we don't do that? When we should? If I knew my brother would end up over 700+ miles away from me before I even married, hell I would have pow-wowed every day.

Don't waste time.

pow-wow

After a while we decided to go check out the USO room. The one we visited at Hopkins before Matthew left for basic was so nice, comfortable, and welcoming. Unfortunately, there were so many sailors shipping out, families couldn't wait with them in the lodgings. (Which was hella sweet, by the way.) So despite Matthew's new friends asking if he was going to hang out in there, and my dad assuring Matthew that he could stay in there for a while and we'd be fine, he chose to walk away. And we returned to our floor-sitting, candy-eating circle.

I don't think my brother will ever understand how much that meant. To me at least. I'm sure my family identifies with my feelings, though. Maybe I'm over-emotional, feeling all "you-don't-know-what-you-have-'til-its-gone," but I treasured every moment sitting on my coat in the airport. And if I could do it again I would. Everything was an adventure. Even going to the bathroom...in which I realized you change the automatic liner on the toilet before you sit, not after. Who reads directions to go to the bathroom...? Apparently I will from now on.

Time came for him to go through security. Ugh, 4:45. So I hugged him. And everyone else hugged him. And I hugged him again. And he was off to get in line. 

For the rest of my life, I will probably remember watching the back of his head walking in line as we were going back up the escalator to work our way out. I just keep feeling like saying "Hey, military, don't you know I need him too?"

Its probably over-dramatic. Probably insignificant to those who haven't had to do it. And no, my brother isn't in harm's way. Its not like he's being deployed and I have a fear of not seeing him again. But he's still...gone.
From daily life, anyway. I can still text and call him, a luxury we did not have while he was in basic.

I don't want anyone to get the wrong idea here about my feelings.

I am 100% happy for my brother. I know he is exactly where he is supposed to be. I respect and admire our military members, and know my brother is completely noble in his joining. In our car ride, I asked him if he was still the "same," and he said yes. And he was- same personality, same goofiness, same softness. Basic hadn't turned him into some lean, mean, killing machine that's cold. But he was different. In a good way. Structure looked good on him. He walked straighter. Looked taller. Seemed ready for orders. Seemed respectful. Looked purpose-filled. Seemed...grown up. He had this...honorable air about him that you associate with old-school "yes ma'am" military men in movies. There's really no other words I can find to describe how my little brother looked.

 The Navy looked good on him.

We're still not completely sure if he will be able to have leave for Bill & mine's wedding. Matthew seems fairly confident, but I told him not to tell me unless he knows for sure. Too much stress.

If there's one thing I learned for sure these past two months -and especially the last 5 days- is that distance truly does make the heart grow fonder. I already knew this because of my fiance being in Columbus for 4 years, but even more-so with my brother. So how do we cope with the sadness?

Matching tattoos, of course.

My brother told me that the Naval Compass Rose symbolizes always being able to find your way home. He wants to get one over his left pec, and I will be doing the same. Higher up. With some added tweaks of my own. (I can't be too masculine, now)

But that's that! 

The unforgettable trip. 

The ever life-altering scenario.

My view.

But I sure love my Sailor.

Well done, cinnamon stick.

moments after finding him

-Britney