In an attempt to bury my head and to keep myself from feeling sorry this Father’s Day weekend, I delved into binge-watching the show SEAL Team starring David Boreanez. I watched all of Season 1 and am part way through Season 2 now. It’s a great show. I found myself teared up a few times, and on the edge of excitement and/or tension at other times. The storylines were familiar, sometimes too familiar, but I thought they were well-written and not glamorized in Hollywood fashion, beating us over the head with their slanted agenda.
*Small rant* – Usually when someone has a personal agenda when they write a story, the story isn’t balanced, and that imbalance makes it not work. The general population is mostly ignorant, but a bad story is a bad story regardless if observed by the ignorant or intelligent alike. *Getting off m soapbox*
But, I think about the moments in SEAL Team that brought me to tears and asked myself why that particular scene affected me so much, curious as to what truly touched the nerve and evoked the emotion I fought so hard to suppress. When I’m alone I try not to suppress my emotions because my home is my safe place, but it’s a hard habit to break. I didn’t realize it until this morning what moved me so much – the brotherhood.
For as long as I remember, I have loved and admired Military personnel. I don’t really prefer one branch above the other, though at times one may have my attention more than the others. James was an Army Ranger – so Rangers were my focus for a long time. Emilio was an Army Drill Sergeant. Jeff was an Army Ranger. Homar is a Marine. Jenna was Army. Evenlyn was Army. Brad was Navy. Matt is Marine. Chris is Marine. Matthew is Reserve. John was National Guard. Scott was Navy SEAL, and so on and so on. I have many friends who have served this country in the Armed Forces from every branch – Army, Navy, Air Force, Marines, and National Guard. I am drawn to them and feel a kinship, yet still feel on the outside. But, why do I love them so much? I think it’s because of the ‘brotherhood’.
James was the first person to ever make me feel loved and safe. It should have been my family, but I didn’t have that kind of family. I had many brothers, and though I love them and will always love them, we were not a brotherhood. I carried them, but there was no one to carry me. I had to learn to carry myself. I had a biological mother and father, but make no mistake, I was an orphan. I was married for two decades, but was never really wanted or ever felt at home in his family. And I’ve been in a couple relationships since where I just didn’t belong. James was killed in ‘93 and with his death I lost that sense of belonging. Just before he died, I would hear him talk about his brother’s on his team, and I was jealous, but only a little because I knew in his heart I was also part of his team, that I held a part of his heart just like his brothers. I wish I had got to know them, but I couldn’t even tell you one of their names. I think I’ve been seeking them out in all the service men and women I’ve met over the years.
I don’t feel I belong anywhere, and that I’m constantly on the outside looking in the windows of all the brotherhoods around me. Don’t get me wrong – I’ve been loved in this world – by my kids, by my friends, even by my ex-lovers. They all loved me – but they were not my brotherhood. This world is a hard world and I’ve had to fight my whole life to survive it. I am a survivor. I’m not a victim. I’m laughing/crying right now, because I’m thinking about Marcus Luttrell, and I want to say to him, “You think you’re the Lone Survivor? Yeah, you’re the one who survived Operation Red Wing, and you lost your brothers (my condolences), but you had – and still have – a brotherhood. You were NEVER alone. You have a brotherhood until the day you die. You’re so fucking lucky.” I mean that with the utmost respect. He’s one of my true life heroes.
So, I think I’ve discovered what it was that truly evoked my emotions this past weekend. It was Father’s Day and I was lost. I have no father, no father-in-law, and no husband that’s a father, no boyfriend with kids, no son with kids, and no son-in-law with kids to celebrate with and/or for. I loved seeing all the people honoring and loving their fathers. I was so jealous. Angry at those assholes who did not honor their fathers.
God is my father. He is also my brotherhood. I believe He put this love in my heart for warriors and brothers in arms. It’s not the uniform I love – it’s the bond of love that is formed in these teams. The tighter the team – the stronger the bond. Maybe I’ll find my team someday. I think my biggest hope is that one of these brothers could someday love me the way they loved their brothers, and that they would fight for me, protect me, and be there for me with the same dedication, fight and determination – willing to sacrifice it all. But, if not – I got this.
Till next time,