Leaving for a Cause

My Brother - the Missionary

I don't really know how I felt the day my brother got his call to serve a mission in Davao, a place unknown to him. I wanted to cry but of course, not in front of the whole family. We gathered together as he read his letter from his Mission President. He is to leave on Oct. 16 (that's two weeks from now) and won't be back until after two years. He is leaving us, his air-conditioned room, his car, his compaq palm, his cellphone, his electric guitar, his girlfriend, his career, his dream of being a lawyer, all his luxuries and a lot more. He is to go with a limited budget, to learn the value of sacrifice. We can't reach him in any other way except through letters or e-mail (if he would be allowed to check, but I'm sure it's on a very limited basis). The only days we could talk to him on the phone are during Mother's Day and Christmas. My brother and I has always been close. 11 months lang ang pagitan namin! I view him as someone innocent and kind. He was always so kind to me and my sister. He knows all my secrets. I will definitely miss him. Don't get me wrong. I'm happy that he's going away to serve the Lord, and I am proud of him. His going there has a purpose, I know. But a part of me says that I need him here - to listen to my whines and "love stories", to do favors for me, to fix my computer, to drive me to the mall, to close our gates at night, to watch movies together, to sing with while I play the piano, my sister the drums and him the guitar. All of this would be gone in a few more weeks and it would probably never be the same again when he comes back. He will be a changed man when he comes back. Yes, I need him here... but I guess he is much needed someplace else, as I tell all my missionary friends when I write to them. I guess I feel the same way as Kolipoki's father did in "The Other Side of Heaven" the day he was to leave for a mission in Tonga. He said that he doesn't love the people in Tonga enough to send them his son, but somehow he knew Heavenly Father does. Our whole family and a lot of his friends would bring him to the Missionary Training Center on the 16th. I won't cry, I told myself. But my Kuya knows how 'crybaby' I can get. Whenever someone asks how I feel, knowing that my brother would be leaving in a few weeks, I would tell them, "Ok lng, gusto ko na nga siya paalisin e." Then I would laugh. But everytime I hear myself say those words, the growing realization that his day of departure is getting nearer becomes more significant, and emotions seem to fight a fiercer battle inside me. I hope he doesn't come across this page, but if he does, I would like him to know how grateful I am to have a brother like him and that, if I were given the chance to choose another brother, I wouldn't have any other.