by Regi Stone
From an early age, our son spoke of joining the armed forces. He read countless articles and watched more YouTube videos and war movies than you could imagine. He was also a World War II enthusiast and loved conversing with anyone else who shared his same interest.
Through the years, his other love was uniforms. He joined a soccer team, basketball team, lacrosse team, the Boy Scouts, taekwondo, and purchased a uniform (with his own money) for jujitsu but never even wore it. That’s not to mention the early years. He wanted to play hockey; but the first time he put on a pair of skates, he broke his tibia.
Years later, after moving to Wyoming, his uniform interests changed to cowboy boots and jeans. Other days, it was his favorite Vans and skinny jeans. We had barely gotten settled in our home when he suffered a broken orbital socket after being punched in the face by a not so nice school mate. That’s a story for another day. Soon after, we bought matching dirt bikes on his birthday which required another uniform to wear while riding around the yard. Shortly after learning to ride, he crashed his bike into a fence at 1:30 in the morning on the way to see his girlfriend. He broke his knee and scraped his arms badly. Thankfully, he managed to make it through the rest of the year with nothing more serious than a few bumps and bruises.
Earlier this year, right before his 17th birthday, he said he wanted to go talk to a Marine recruiter. After less than a 5-minute conversation with his recruiter, he said, “This is it.”
After all the above, you’ll understand why we secretly wondered if he would be able to push through the adversity, the pain, the yelling, and everything else it takes to finish what’s known as the toughest bootcamp in the armed forces.
We also wondered if he was just fascinated with the uniform.
As I’m writing this, I’m on a plane with my wife, daughter and grandson. We are landing in San Diego where our son, Eli, who should be in his second month of 11th grade, has just finished Marine Bootcamp. He’s graduating this weekend, and we’re so proud we can hardly contain our emotion. From our most recent conversation with him, it sounds like bootcamp was a whole lot of yelling, running, sweating, pain, adversity, and more discipline than he’s ever experienced. Along the way, he endured pneumonia and a hernia, but he finished. And he finished strong.
It’s living proof that—even if you start slow and have to endure more bumps, bruises, broken places and distractions than you planned for—there’s a place at the finish line for anyone willing to make the journey. And—in my son’s case—he’s earned the right to wear the most incredible uniform he’s ever dreamed of wearing.
Semper Fi
Regi Stone
