2. The Brave Man

Dear Mr. President or To Whom It May Concern:

It’s a great feeling to be accomplished, isn’t it? I’ve always wanted to ask the President of the United States what it’s like to hear that he has won. Does he jump for joy? Or hug his head campaign manager? Maybe one of the former presidents did little bunny hops with his secretary as she screamed like an adolescent at her favorite concert.

My imagination has an incredibly strong habit of running away from me. I’m rather sure it’s far more professional than that – except for the campaigners. I’m sure they have this whole graduation-type ceremony of throwing a few papers into the air, hooting and hollering just a little, high-fives all around. That’s what I’d want my campaigners to do, anyway. Perhaps they really do just stand or sit around, applause filling the room – or rooms; I’m not entirely sure what the campaigner’s job is like.

I can imagine being the President of the United States. I can imagine performing my duties as given by the constitution and the people. What I can’t imagine, though, is the emotional aspects that come with it. I can see a war room and deciding what to do. I can’t see the emotions I’d feel when I’d decide to take the lives of the warriors from another country – people I’ve never even seen.

I can imagine seeing them. But I can’t imagine what they’d do if they saw me, the President of the United States. I’d be very much afraid of being the President. But at the same time, I’d be very proud.

In many ways, I feel about it the same way I feel about people I know serving in our military. Proud, overjoyed, relieved – but at the same time terrified, worried, and sick. My brother’s closest friend in this world was sworn into the Marines a few Mondays ago. His going-away party is today. Do you know what he’s going to be? He’s going to be a grunt. A grunt!

I’ve known this boy for eleven years. He’s close to me, too – he’s my brother. His mom died when he was still young; so young that he can’t remember her too well. His step-mother doesn’t take any particular interest in his activities, interests, or life – but his dad takes an interest in her son’s. Not exactly fair, if you ask me. But she’s trying – now that he’s going off to serve our country.

Travis – that’s Mr. Marine – and my brother became very close friends in elementary school. Trav has stood up for me more times than I can count – has been there for me just like my own actual family. And we’ve been there for him. He’s come over to our house whenever he needed to get away.

He wrote my mom a card for her birthday. It’s more than what I can say; though I didn’t forget about what very special day it was, I didn’t have the money to get her anything, and didn’t think about even making her something. That’s how sweet of a boy Trav is. And yes, he is a boy. He is not a man. But he is willing to sacrifice himself for our safety – for my safety.

In the card, he told my mom that she had been his only mother figure in his lifetime. That we were his family, and our home was his home, if we’d let it. And of course we would!

Never before have I seen so many emotions with someone enlisting, because never before did I know anyone enlisted. I only just met a cousin of mine who has been serving the Marines for a couple years. But that isn’t as emotional as Travis because I will see Travis change. My cousin – a brilliant and wonderful man, to be sure, at the age of nineteen – has already changed. There’s nothing for me to anticipate, he is how he will be. But Travis will change, and I will see him change. I like him how he is. It certainly has opened my eyes. I’m terrified for Travis; I want to see him home safe. But at the same time I am so, so incredibly proud to see him do this for me, and for us. For everyone.

It takes a brave heart, and an even braver soul, to do as these men do every day.

I want him to see the action he seeks, but I know I might never see him again. I haven’t accepted this yet; it’s only in my mind, not in my heart. I’m not brave enough to believe someone who has protected me for most of my life is going off to protect me from even greater dangers. However, I can believe that he’s protecting my freedom. It’s what he’s done every day since I met him.

I can’t believe you’re willing to take this country upon your shoulders, every life and every parcel of land. However, I can believe you’re protecting us, the people – your people. Because it’s what you’ve been doing for years longer than I’ve been alive.

In this letter I wanted to thank you for being a brave heart, and a braver soul.

Truly sincerely,

L., a pursuant of bravery

PS: Bravery is being able to stand when you know you should fall. It’s not about winning or losing; it’s about being able to stand. You don’t need to stand tall to be brave. You just can’t fall. Bravery is not giving in or giving up; it’s about resisting. It takes a brave man to stand alone, but a braver, greater man to realize when he is wrong. Stand for what you believe, and when it changes don’t be afraid to admit it.