Say It in a Text?

I scrolled and scrolled through his lengthy text message as it came through on the tiny face of my smart watch. Panic, dread, loathing, catastrophizing - and about 150 words later, I got the message.

My brother is in the Navy, stateside, working on flight data - or something like that. I don’t really know, to tell you the truth, and I think that’s on purpose. He’s been back since last Christmas, having spent the last 10 months in the middle of the Indian Ocean on a giant aircraft carrier. And yet, even after his third (or fourth?) deployment in lands and waters of friend and foe, he’s never been more scared than he is now.

He’s frantic, and I can hear his shaky tone as I read the text. He can’t believe what’s happening in this country. With ICE. With Minneapolis. With democracy. With voting rights. With files. With Greenland. With Venezuela. With…With…With…

And I get it. It scares the hell out of me too. I’m enraged and I’m numb. I’m energized and I’m exhausted. I’m passionate and I’m despondent. I’m mobilized and I’m paralyzed.

I left him on “read’ for a while, as I was not sure what to say or how to help. A day or two later, I reply back, but not with a louder bullhorn in the echo chamber. Instead, I just say, “I love you. I hear you. I understand. I’m scared too. I think we will be okay.”

It’s not a deep Atlantic-esque analysis of the situation. It’s not a promise of how things may or may not turn out. It’s just a vulnerable reply back to my brother who has been through some stuff, and is terrified about the direction our country is headed.

How are you taking care of yourself? Are you okay? Do you need a break? Do you want to talk - or not? Do you need to cry? Hit a punching bag? Write a letter? Hold a sign? Take a nap? Vent online? Turn off social media?

Send a text?

I love you. I hear you. I understand. I’m scared too. I think we will be okay.

Holy One,

Surround us with your peace.

Amen

Kelly is a mother, wife, daughter…and sister.