It is small enough to fit in your pocket, it has a square shape, and it is a bright white that could blind you if you look at it in the wrong light. It can take you anywhere you want to go; it is a window to the big scary online world, and I have it just sitting in my pocket, constantly weighing down my pants.

Suddenly, it's already February. The trees look lifeless, the snow slushed away, just cold and muggy. Today is the day I've been dreading since my brother came home from college, the day he’d leave again, but this time not for college, this time, for the air force. I hated that word, air force. To me, that word meant leaving and not coming back; I already had to deal with the immense sadness when my other brother left for the military, now again? 

My brother sat in the car nervously, cracking his knuckles and picking at the calluses on his palms, which I was used to him doing, and it didn’t even annoy me anymore. He pulls at his coarse black hair, trying to find comfort in something to get rid of his nervousness. I noticed that whenever he was nervous he would pick at different parts of his skin. He picked the dry skin off his lips so much they would begin to bleed. Why does he do that to himself? Doesn’t that hurt? I always thought to myself. 

After what felt like hours, we finally pulled into the airport, and the loud buzzing from the planes shook my eardrums. I look out the cold frosted window to see a family running out of their car to hug someone. Everyone seems on edge, trying to find who is picking them up or what doors to go in. Airports always seem so stressful and confusing, why would anyone choose to come here? We come to a stop that jerks the car, “Ok let's go” my dad says. We all get out of the car, the trunk pops open and we help my brother get his things out. Looking around, I see other people also saying goodbye to their loved ones, it made me feel like this was something that was normal. It was almost comforting to know that other people are experiencing what I was about to experience. Tears begin to roll down my face and the cold weather makes it feel like they are going to freeze and stay there on my face. Everyone is yelling, stressed out, trying to get to where they need to be, then there's just me and my family, sobbing, hugging my brother. It felt like for a minute time stopped, and I wish it had. I was dreading watching my brother walk through those doors. it felt like it was just us at the airport just standing there near the car. “I’ll be back before you know it,” says my brother, but I had a strong feeling in my stomach that it would be a while before I’d get to see him. 

As time went by I dreaded walking past my brother's room, empty, lifeless, not even a room anymore. Suddenly my phone rapidly shakes the pocket in my pants, I pull my phone out and squint at the bright screen. A text from my brother fills the screen, “Hey Sid, do you have a chance to talk on the phone? I have 5 minutes.” I jumped up with excitement, I hadn’t been able to talk to my brother since he left for basic training for the military. My phone shakes again but this time with a song, and my brother is calling me. Without hesitation, I click the bright green button and answer the phone. I run downstairs barely able to catch my breath and tell my Dad who is on the phone. “Hey Clark!” we both say. We talked for a couple of minutes and It felt like a race trying to get out things I wanted to say with so little time to talk. Clark tells us about how he has to get woken up each morning, blinded by the lights in his room, and yelling so loud he couldn't hear himself think. Just in seconds, it felt like we had to end the call and say goodbye not knowing the next time we’d get to talk to again. I thought to myself, How would we get to communicate if we didn’t have phones? I guess letters are an option but that’s a long waiting game. I was so glad I had my phone on me at this time because if I didn't I would've missed the chance to talk to my brother and catch up, even if it was for a few minutes. So for the whole duration of my brother being gone, I made sure I always had my phone on me so I could never miss the chance to get to talk to him. Even though our time to talk was so limited, we were so grateful to be able to speak to him, rather than not to speak to him at all. The thing I carry may not weigh very much physically, but the ability it holds to allow me to talk to my brother makes it weigh so much more symbolically.