a letter to my brother

back story: my brother has been ready to join the service since he was like four. since he knew what the service was he was ready to go in. my grandfather, pop, was a world war two vet and proud of it. he'd tell us stories about the war and about general patten growing up. he lived with us for four years before he died. jake is my only brother, seven years younger, and he just signed in for the marines even though he won't be 18 until august. (and he's not allowed to go in until after my wedding... a girl can't get married without a ring-bearer.) we grew up with crazy hippie parents and he has been my go to man for a handle on the insanity that is our family and the whole thought of not having him around makes me a little nutty.

dear jake,
i'm not exactly sure what happened last night. we were talking about pop and hospice and i guess in a sense death and yadda yadda... which you know is weird but fine, whatever.
then somehow later in the night we started talking about god and our beliefs and being spiritual. barbara is trying to convince erik and i that we should stay here and we can't leave until we're in tune to reiki which sounds like a creepy cult of sorts.
when we were talking about pop, i started to get semi emotional because i miss him and stuff and barbara was talking about how much we helped with him and how special we are and we're such good people for helping out with him... not that we really had a choice. he's family and amazing but whatever. i knew things we're gonna be bad at that point because i got this huge knot in my throat and i was trying really hard to keep it together and barbara kept hugging me.
now keep in mind i had had four beers by this point and barbara was wasted (although i'm kinda tearing up now just thinking about it butttttt.....) somehow we got on the topic of you going to the marines and i lost it. i lost it like i did when i had to tell you that pop died. i was crying so hard, i was heaving and sobbing and i had snot all over my face.
barbara kept saying how you're going to be fine and you're not going to die and blah blah blah.. you're gonna be a hero like pop. but that's not what worries me. i know you're going to be fine. and you're going to do great. i even except the fate of things that if you were to die it'd must be your time...
she kept asking me what it's like, what i'm feeling... i guess she didn't really think of it from my side... having my only brother leave...
i couldn't tell her because i couldn't put it into word but it's not what she thinks... it's more that i'm afraid of what you're going to see, what you're going to have to deal with, how you're going to change. that's what scares me the most. i'm afraid of what's going to happen after you get back.
i've heard the same stories as you have my whole life. you know what you're getting yourself into, probably better than most people and i completely respect you for it. i'm just terrified of what you're going to have to live through and how you'll deal with that when you get back. i don't want you to change. i don't want you to lose your spark or become a meathead. that's what makes me the most scared.
i just wanted you to know... i love you and i think you're awesome. but if you become anything but the person that i know you are... i'm rallying the sisters in a convention and i won't let them leave until your back to normal.
just a warning.
love, emily