Dear Sgt. First Class Ashe, Veronica, Sis, My friend . . . I love you.

It's Tanner's night to tuck in Turner.

Usually on these nights I've got my nose shoved in a book or my arms shoved into dishwater. Tonight, I blog. I broke the seal again today and I've obviously missed writing. I wish I could capture it (thoughts, feelings, etc.), all of it, and put it down all pretty and organized and unique. Most of you are talented like that, I feel like I throw a bunch of run-on sentences together using average grammar and mediocre spelling. Holy crap, am I getting a complex about the way I blog? I obviously must be too stressed or something because I'm being over critical today, yesterday, the past couple of weeks.

I receieved  a letter from Veronica yesterday. By letter, I mean email.

Random thought: Will people always use the term letter or will it eventually become obsolete due to all of the advancements in technology? Hmmmm.

I can tell she was writing to tell me she hates being in Afghanistan and that things are more difficult than she had imagined. She was reserved; always trying to protect me from worry and maybe convince herself that things aren't really that bad. But when you grow up together, dream together, accomplish things together, and depend on one another for 19 years, you know what they are feeling. I can close my eyes and hear her quiet tone, her enunciation, and picture her face talking to me. I want to hold her tiny frame and kiss her on the top of her head and just sit in silence. I want to be lost in that moment when you know what the other person is thinking and you feel so much that there isn't room for words.

I'm going to that when she comes home.

I worry about her. I'm not worried about her safety as much as I worry about what she is being exposed to. What is she seeing?
Is she in sanitary living conditions?
Is she being exposed to bacteria's or diseases that will come to surface when she gets home?
Is she going to come home with trauma?
Will she need therapy or anti-depressants?
Will she isolate herself?
Will she refuse to speak about it?
What is she thinking?
Will her experience change who she is?
Does she have what she needs?
Does she have a friend there that she can talk to?

I don't think it is fair to my other sis Patty to expose her private experiences, but I will say that after she arrived home from Iraq, it had changed her. How could it not? There were many things happening or not happening that I wasn't aware of. Simple things where precaution wasn't taken or proper care wasn't available. Things that didn't surface in her mind or on her body until she came home.

I wish I could take it all away.

Of course, I will never ask those questions aloud or insinuate to Veronica that I wonder about those types of things. I'm here as friend and family. Support from home. I write funny stories and fill her in on the normal things like the weather, what Turner is doing, what Tanner and I have planned . . .that kind of thing. Just trying to keep it simple. I'm trying to write well enough that she can lose herself in my life for a bit and let my paragraphs drown out her present day situation.


I know when a person signs up for the military, they are aware that there is a chance for deployment. Every single day someone doesn't come home. They are aware of the dangers, the struggles, the aftermath of being a soldier sent to war. Yet they do it.

I'm sure there are a million reasons people enlist. An escape. The money. A job. The desire to serve their country. There are too many too list. Regardless of why our friends and family enlist, they are there. They must deal with war. They must deal with the aftermath.

I'm not a person that prays, but for Veronica's sake I hope she comes home safe and healthy.

Here is an exerpt from her letter to me:

"I cant really say a whole lot about what I am doing but the weather here is nice. My tent is pretty cramped. I can stand on my bed and touch the beds on both sides of me... not much room for privacy. But thats how it goes I guess. I have been running and working out as much as I can, which will benefit me when i get home. The chow is ok but I usually eat once a day and thats it. Most times Im either busy or not hungry. The same old food gets old after awhile. I haven't taken any pictures yet, this place is such a crap-hole. Plus it is very limited what you can take pictures of. I will try to start taking them though. There are alot of politics involved over here and sometimes they don't make the right decisions. But I guess you have to make sacrifices in order to support the big picture."

I don't care if you support the war or if you are against it. To be truthful, I can't tell you how I feel about it. I'm sure there is alot I don't know. I'm not informed enough to choose a side. Honestly, I don't want to know. There never is a good war I guess, but there are things worth fighting for.

I realize that since 9/11 there are tons of blogs, articles, etc. out there about the military. It gets old hearing about it, I know. But please,

if you get a chance today, tomorrow, whenever

please, thank a soldier.

"You don't get very far in life without having to be brave an awful lot. Because we all have our frightening moments and difficult trials and we don't have much of a choice but to get through em', and it takes alot of bravery to do that. The most important thing about bravery is this - It's not about being scared - it's about being scared and doing it anyway - that's bravery.
- Ysabella Brave