I call him that, but it's no longer accurate. He's all grown up. It's amazing at the gauntlet of emotions you feel when you see your child in uniform. What comes to mind are "proud", "concern" and the feelings of "protection". My son has been serving for 4 years, 4 months and 6 days. In that time, he served a year on the border of North and South Korea, two years in England with a 6 month stint in Iraq. He's now in New Mexico waiting for his exit date, which is fast approaching. Praise God! When he was in Iraq, he told me that he was not allowed off of the base. I don't know why, but I accepted this easily and gratefully. But after he finished his 6 months and he was back in England safely, he told me "Mom, I just told you that so you would not worry. We patrolled the streets of Baghdad all the time."
He will be going to college once he is out. He's determined to become a History teacher in High School. He's now 25 1/2 and he's starting when most young adults start at 18 or 19. He gave up his youth to serve his country. He's matured so much and I couldn't love someone any more than I love him, his sisters and my hubby. This post is a tribute to him. 
