After four deployments, I finally came home. My wife texted: “I’m marrying your brother tomorrow. Don’t come. The kids have a new dad now.” I replied with three words: “Wish you well.” Then I made one call. Eighteen hours later, I had 31 missed calls—and one voicemail from my brother that changed everything.

The C-17 Globemaster touched down at Joint Base McGuire-Dix-Lakehurst with the kind of bone-jarring jolt that would have bothered me four years ago. Now, after four consecutive deployments across three continents, the turbulence felt like a lullaby. I was thirty-four years old, looked forty, and felt ancient.