It's rather serendipitous that on Election Day 2010, my oldest son Alex enlisted in the Marine Corps. I spent the morning gripping a handkerchief and trying (unsuccessfully) to keep the tears under control. Alex has been consistent in his desire to join the Marines for the last two years, and started this process all on his own. I support his decision completely, but I can't help but feel scared and unsure.
The thought that kept running through my head all morning was, "It's too fast. This has all happened too fast. He was just a baby yesterday, for heaven's sake." All the cliches are true, in the blink of an eye, they're grown ups.
He's so stoic. I have no idea where he gets that from.
This is what he wants. He won't be 18 until the end of June, so he won't leave for Camp Pendleton until the beginning of September. I can't stop thinking, "This is his last Thanksgiving before he goes into the Marines. This is his last Christmas before he goes into the Marines."
And so on. I like to drive myself crazy that way.
Marine or not, he will always be my baby.
