I have recently acquired an additional role to a long list of my life’s personas. My son recently signed on to the Marines early entry program. I am about to become a Marine Mom.
It’s a little like just finding out you are pregnant. You’re not yet a mother but it’s almost a guarantee that on a pre-determined date you will be. You can talk to other Marine Moms, imagine what being a Marine Mom is all about, the range of emotions, read about what your fine young Marine will go through physically and only guess what he will go through mentally.
A mixture of emotions for me and for my husband, many of which are positive. First being how proud I am of my extraordinary, amazing, mature, confident and determined 18 year old son. I have all the confidence in the world in Robby and his choice. We raised him to be strong, honest and in touch with himself, to love God and his country. Everything we have taught him, everything he has ever learned, everything he knows and/or expects of himself is about to be put on the line and tested. I talk with him about it once in awhile, always seeking that balance of not dwelling on it yet not ignoring the fact that he will be ‘leaving us’ in 5 months. He’ll never be the same young man he is now. I’m willing to bet anything he will somehow be even finer; definitely stronger in body and in mind. In spirit he is already amazingly strong. How he will change and grow and mature is in the hands of God. The metamorphosis begins; already he has increased his pull ups from 4 to 12 and is standing a little taller…
Marine Mom, the proud, willingly supportive and involved bystander of her boy’s personal definition of what being a man means to him. And possessing the knowledge that my son’s metamorphosis will also be my own.
My Robby is ready to try out his wings and I am thankful for that.