The day that I have been dreading is soon approaching.

October XX, 2007 will register as one of the Worst Days Of My Life.

That's the day that my little brother, my best friend, my hero, will board a plane and land in Iraq.

He will be gone for about eight months, and will return to the US in June 2008.

He is doing his job, fulfilling the oath he took in July of 2006, "to support and defend the Constitution of the United States against all enemies, forgien and domestic; that I will bear true faith and alleigance to the same; that I will obey the Orders of the President of the United States and the orders of my officers appointed above me, according to the regulations of the Uniform Code of Military Justice. So help me God."

So, I guess this is where I get all cheesy and sentimental. This is where I get all teary-eyed for you.

Adam is my best friend. I could not survive without him. He has been my rock for as long as I can remember, and I hope that I have done the same for him. Growing up, we went through a teenager's form of hell. Our parents got divorced when I was 19 and he was 14. Very tough and touchy times for anybody that age. But, we were the lucky ones. It wasn't a bitter divorce, nor was it messy. Our parents remain pretty close still today.

That being said, it brought Adam and I closer, however, not until he was about 18 or 19, and I was approaching 24 . . . 25. We're best friends, and I can always count on him to be there for anything. Whether it be something major, or something petty. He's my best friend, and I hope I am that to him.

I went through HELL while he was in MCRD for boot camp. I had no contact with him!! I remember he called home once, he was rewarded a 20 minute phone call home . . . and he called me. It was the first time I'd heard his voice in about three months . . . I bawled my eyes out after he had to get off the phone.

I remember flying to California for his graduation. A friend of mine, who had been in the Marines also, sent me a text message that I recieved just as the plane touched down, it said, "remember those who came before your brother and I. Remember the traditions and the honor. Say a thank-you." I had tears everywhere when I was getting off of the plane.

I remember sneaking to the Parade Deck the day before his EGA ceremony. Watching them practice. I picked him out of his platoon, and he heard me trying to get his attention. I knew very well he couldn't break his stance, but I could see how red his face was turning because I was EMBARASSING HIM in front of his platoon and his DI's.

I remember the next day, my family and I walked to the Parade Deck, and hearing the band begin to play. I remember seeing all of the platoons march out. I remember counting the rows of Plt 3047, to look for the seventh row, last guy in the line . . . . THAT was MY brother.

I remember the speech that was given. How they would transform from Recruit to Marine by one single action. I remember watching all of the pomp and circumstance as these men were being presented with their EGA pins that they would proudly display on their covers.

I remember watching my brother. He was looking directly at his Drill Instructor. He shook his hand, and was given his EGA pin. He took his cover off and pinned the EGA to it, he was so proud, as were our parents. I looked at him, and he had tears streaming down his face.

That was HIS defining moment.

That's where HE BECAME a Marine, a Man, a defender of YOUR Freedom.

I remember that it was announced that the band was going to play the Marine Corps Hymn for THEM, because they had now, finally, earned that Title of Marine, and NOBODY could take that away from them.

All of the men stood at POA, and saluted the colors as they all fought back tears while that hymn was playing. Most of them didn't hide the fact that they were crying. They had been through Hell, and they had for DAMNED sure EARNED their titles.

The next day was graduation. They marched out onto the parade deck, standing taller than ever, because THEY were MARINES. They executed their movements with such precision and perfection. They had been working on this for weeks, and their hard work showed. It was haunting . . . dead silence, then you'd hear the haunting cadence calls of the DI's.

You would hear one DI call out the orders, and you would hear the marching. The tight and taut marching of 300 men, sounding like one. Their movements were perfect. They were putting on a show. They were given the order to salute the colors, it was one fluid movement, one sound. They stood at attention, and all of their feet snapped to position, and hands behind their back...one motion, one sound. It was like nothing you'd ever seen before. They would "Lean Back and Strut . . . " How precise they were. How perfect these Marines were.

When they were dismissed, it was awesome. They started with one platoon, and it was so quick, like a domino effect. They would spin around so fast and break their perfect lines after they were given the order they had been waiting so long to hear, "Dismissed!".

No words can describe how incredibly proud I am of you, Adam.

Now, you're off to do another part of your job, and it will require sacrifices.

Stay safe, keep your sense of humor, and know that you have your family and friends here at home that love you very much.

We think about you EVERY SINGLE DAY, and pray for your safe return home in June.

You make me proud every day, Adam. Every time I see the picture I have of you in your Blues, every time I see a USMC flag, or run into a vet, or another Marine. I always think of you.

I proudly wear my little yellow ribbon for you every single day.

Semper Fidelis, Little Bro . . .

Love Ya,
-Sis