USMC

Today is the 22nd anniversary of Danny graduating from MCRD.  I did not go to his graduation.  Mainly because my mom could not stand the pressure of me being across country the day before my wedding.  I am sorry that I didn't go (though considering the circumstances it would have be foolish!) because I would have like to have been there when it all began.  I guess it actually began in November when Danny left for boot camp, but the 9th of February made it official.
Ah, the military life, posh posh military life, the military life for us!  It all began on that day in February.  Well, it actually began the next day when we became a family.  We became something more than ourselves.  Rather, Danny became something more and I just went along for the ride.  Oh, my time would come when I would buckle down on the home front, and I don't make light of that at all.  Being a military spouse is serious business and we take our role seriously and proudly.  But I wouldn't understand that for a few more months.
I cannot speak for Danny.  I do not know how those DI's got in his head, but I know he came out the other side a better man.  Something happened in Boot Camp that could have not happened anywhere else.  I don't know what it was, but for twenty two years, I have watched that thing in action.  Sometimes, that thing drives me crazy, like when he has to redo his police uniform a couple of times because it just isn't right.  But most of the time, it just makes me so proud. 
When he taught kickboxing, the Marine definitely came out.  His voice would change, the pronunciation of words would change, we would all sweat and somehow, Danny would be laughing through it all.  He even lead Hayley's soccer team in pre game warm ups a time or two and that voice would come out.  They were not a big fan of that voice. 
Danny is retired now.  But a great deal of the military, the marine, the soldier, is still in him.  I appreciate that they taught him how to keep his head and ass down.  I appreciate that he learned to clear a room, to weigh the situation, to get out of there alive.  I know that those skills are with him every night on the streets of Des Moines.  I know that all those skills would have been taught to him by the different police academies that he attended, but the military afforded him live, hands on training.  I am grateful for that in a twisted sort of way.  When push comes to whatever is next in his line of defenses, I am glad to know that he knows exactly what to do.
The Marine Corps with its sunny Southern California bases and the Army with its' overseas locales.  We were lucky.  We had the time of our lives on Uncle Sam's dime.  And I mean that dime quite literally looking over back tax forms.   We struggled, as everyone does, but most of the time, it was pretty damn great.
I remember, after Danny was out of active duty and was in the Reserves, meeting up with a bunch of husbands and wives that did not have the same type of background as we did.  They had college degrees and professional type jobs, doctors and lawyers and such.  Those men were drooling as they listened to Danny tell stories of guns, helicopters, blowing stuff up.  Yeah, most days, Danny went to work smiling.  That says something.
I cannot believe that it was twenty two years ago that that very skinny, very hoarse, very sick Marine came off the plane.  And less than twenty four hours later, I was his.