My Hero First

“Marine” “Jarhead” “Devil Dogs” “Leathernecks” “Esprite de Corps” “Serper Fidelis” “Oorah!” “First to Fight” “American” “Once a Marine, Always a Marine” “Hero” Marines go by many names, they’ll answer to any of the above and probably a lot more. They have seen things we can’t imagine, their hearts burned in ways ours wouldn’t survive, their souls have bled in ways we can’t understand. Marines don’t fight because they hate what’s in front of them, they fight because they love what they left behind. Before he was trained, broken down to be to be rebuilt, shipped away from home proud to fight for all of our freedom. Before he was a Marine, a linguist, a cryptanalysts, before he was a husband, an uncle, a great dane owner, everyone’s best friend, before he was a college graduate, a wold traveler, a lead contact and commercial manager, before he was the man he is now… He was the first person to hold me in his arms and promise to love me forever. He let me climb in his bed at night when I couldn’t sleep. He made every birthday I ever had a big deal. He cheered the loudest and hardest for everything I have ever done. He was my friend when I didn’t have any. He searched the house with me and let me play with all my presents weeks before I actually received them. He snuck me treats we weren’t supposed to have. He held me when I was scared, or sad, or just needed a hug. He made me laugh whenever I wanted to cry. He is the only person in the world who knows why I am the person I am, because he lived what I lived and helped make me - me. Before he was everything he is to so many people, and I realize it’s a lot, but before he was all of that, he was, and always will be my big brother and my hero.