The Great Protectors

A salute to our Armed Forces

"Hey, watch this," my brother hollered. I looked up too late and his spinning leg slammed squarely to the back of my knees. I did a little half-flip and landed on my back. The trampoline broke my fall and bounced me into another one as I tried to cover my surprise. I could cry, but he’d laugh and then get that serious don’t tell Mom look and say he was sorry. But then he’d go easy on me and I’d know it was because he thought I couldn’t handle it. And I could. Oh, I hated these ‘karate lessons’ Travis loved so much to give, but I could handle them, just like he could handle the baseball to the gut we’d kept secret last week.

Because that was our way. Our childhood together with our baby sister consisted of many secrets only disclosed among ourselves and designed to keep us all out of trouble. We protected each other as much as our parents tried to. My mother once marched over to the home of the neighborhood bully and gave his mother the what for. But earlier, when that mean boy was throwing the bricks at my sister and I, Travis was the one who started chunking them back!

In my teenaged years I counted on his protection and, yes, even his wisdom to help me sail those stormy seas. He rarely approved of my boyfriends, even inviting a few of them to our weekly backyard boxing matches in order to size them up. When I became pregnant with my first child, he chased her father down the road for nearly a quarter mile before tackling him. He didn’t hurt him, amazingly, but he did give him an almighty tongue lashing, after which Craig never so much as contradicted me on a thing.

But there was one man who stole my heart, and Travis could see that. Apart from a single incident, he never questioned my resolve for him. Travis never condemned him, even when everyone else turned from me. Even taking me into his home with his new bride and child, he never ceased in my protection. His sacrifice caused me to take a second look at where my life was going and the kind of person I wanted to be.

Now I am an adult and finding still the great protector that my brother is. I owe my life to him and others like him, as does every other American. My brother is an American Soldier, and he fights daily to keep us safe. Again, he has sacrificed any resemblance of a normal life, absent for the birth of his baby girl.

Because that is his way. His heart encompasses a great sympathy for those who are unable to stand up for themselves. This is something that no camoflauge can cover. Through dust storms and fire fights, bombings and fear, he serves unflinchingly and no medal is enough to recognize that. My brother will be coming home soon; I pray with that great heart still beating true. I haven’t seen him in almost two years, though his face is in my thoughts a thousand times a day. And I know that when the day comes that I do see him I will tell him I love him and I thank him unceasingly.

Travis, you are my brother, you’re a father, a husband and a son. But, as with countless men and women before you, your destiny was written on your heart before you took your first breath. In all the world, you are marked as an American Soldier. You are one of the Great Protectors and we thank you.