So in case we are not friends on Facebook, yesterday was pretty awesome for me.
I was watching the airplanes with Patrick's dad and little cousin. "Patrick's on there!" the little cousin shouted, pointing to the big plane.
An hour or so after I got done with class I got in my car and drove to Omaha. I was picking up my little brother from field training (basic training for Air Force ROTC cadets.)
When I got to Eppley I felt kinda bad because I noticed some families had flags and signs. Then I saw a group make their way to where I was waiting. They had "Welcome home" signs and such, so I assumed they were picking someone up as well. There was a college-age girl with them that for some reason looked familiar. This is normally not like me, but as soon as I thought I knew who she was, I got up from my chair, walked over to her and said, "Are you Patrick's girlfriend?" Patrick is another cadet from UNL ROTC (Recruit Officer Training Program) who went to field training with my brother.
"Yes," she replied, somewhat hesitant because the only reason I recognized her was from Patrick's Facebook pictures. Yup. Never met this girl. I was then introduced to Patrick's family and I kind of just joined them, which was really fun.
After lots of hugs and LOTS of pictures, my brother and I got his luggage and headed to my car.
The whole time, of course, he talked my ear off with stories of field training. I was just so happy to have him home. He sounded like a kid coming home from summer camp and missing all his friends--not a tired boy who just got back from military training.
I was told (among more stories) that he was a "DG", or distinguished graduate. Which is also pretty dang cool. So I cheered again! AND he was commander of his flight for the parade they do on the last day (which is why his voice was so hoarse.) THEN. He pulled something out of his carry-on bag. It turned out to be a little, circular medal/trophy thingy.
I was told (among more stories) that he was a "DG", or distinguished graduate. Which is also pretty dang cool. So I cheered again! AND he was commander of his flight for the parade they do on the last day (which is why his voice was so hoarse.) THEN. He pulled something out of his carry-on bag. It turned out to be a little, circular medal/trophy thingy.
Yes. My little brother. Got. Top. Gun. Yes, you heard me correctly. TOP GUN. Which apparently is not just a movie. "It was just of my flight (20-ish cadets,)" he said. So?! TOP GUN!!!!
I suddenly felt truly humbled. Yes, I landed a pretty sweet job. Yes I graduate in almost a week. BUT MY BROTHER IS TOP GUN. 
And a welcome-home-from-military-training just wouldn't be complete without a big steak and a root beer float.
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