No. of Recommendations: 84
I met my wife in the breezeway of building 4281 at 29 Palms California. For some unfathomable reason, I still remember the date -- July 20, 1987. She was standoffish -- you didn't see her with all the other Marines, joking and cutting up. She looked SHARP in her razor creased cammies and spitshined boots. So much so, I wanted to get to know her a little better. I walked over to her and all that came out was, "Nice boots, Marine."

Thus began an oddessy that led us to getting engaged, getting unengaged, getting reengaged, getting married, being stationed apart for our first year of marriage, being stationed together at Camp LeJeune, then having our son, then being stationed on Okinawa for six years, our daughter being born, us separating from the Marines, her suffering through my few years of self-employment, her joining the National Guard, her going active duty, me joining the National Guard, then me getting deployed, our year of separation, then the struggle for our places once I returned home, then me going active duty, then her going on a fitness kick, the marathons, the triathalons, the endless training (both for her workouts and me being retrained to be a husband and a father again!) and her finally saying to me, 19 months ago today:

I want to go to OCS.

I looked into her eyes and said, "I'll do whatever it takes to help you through this. No matter what. I believe you'll make a great officer. I believe you can make it through all this. Mostly, I believe in you."

My wife graduated from OCS as a 2DLT today. On Sunday at 11am at Camp Shelby, I am pinning her with the gold bars I bought the day after she told me she wanted to go to OCS.

Sometimes, you feel something, balls to bones, that you know is real. The day she said she wanted to go, I felt it for the first time in my life.

Today, the pride I feel for her is the second.

Respectfully Submitted,

Un -- extremely proud husband of a brand new 2DLT
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