I am trying (struggling?) to accept all that IS. The house is sold. My youngest not so "little" (okay.. he is now a kidadult, okay.. truth be told - he is a man) is graduating from high school and just five short days after that is leaving to become a US MARINE.
okay, double HMPF.
He has wanted to be a Marine since he was 5 years old. I have tried to talk him out of it for the last 13 years. Not because I don't respect, admire and honor the US Marine Corp. and all the young men and women who serve, but because he is my little. No matter how many muscles he has. No matter how many miles he can run, no matter how fast he is or how brave he is. He is my little boy. The little red headed boy that begged me to read that book "just one more time.
The little copper headed boy with the mischevious grin who could melt my heart with a smile, a word, a hug... and he now wants to become what??? A MARINE???
On Saturday he participated in a statewide "POOLEE" event (that's what they call recruits - poolees).. and was awarded this:
He is warrior, he is survivor, he is my son. His dad died. He survived. He MADE himself. A Warrior. He made his mother (that would be me) PROUD.
|TOUGH MUDDER 2012 -MAY|
I am honored to call you son.
On. On. My son. On, On. It is what we know. It is how we live and love and honor life. On, On. I love you and hope that you can be as proud of me as I am of you.
On, On. It is what we do.
AKA: The Good Cook