My little boy is no longer.

Saturday morning I got up bright and early to attend a practice competition between his Jr. ROTC drill team and others in the Broward area.



He is the last one on the right.

As I watched him marching around the field in his green uniform I squinted to try and see the child I had seen grow up. I looked for the little toddler I would headbutt. I tried to see the youngster who I would spend hours with inventing superheroes. I waited as he turned back to march towards me to see if he still looked like the pre-teen who went from listening to boy bands to hip hop to the Beatles.

Not a sign of him.

Instead I saw a man. A tall, handsome and confidant man. I watched him as he took initiate and command with those around him; making sure things were being done and done correctly. He joked with the other guys on the team like a man. (Yes, the others on the team were just "guys"...John was a MAN) He spoke like a man, He carried himself like a man.



Then there was that one moment of parental redemption I will hold onto tightly for as long as I can.

His platoon sergeant came by with last minuet suggestions before they entered the parade route; apparently they look for everything during these things. I was laying back and trying not to impose myself on what he was doing but as I looked him over I spotted something.

"John," I whisper/yelled "Straighten your gig line!" He quickly got his shirt, pants and belt in perfect line. When he was done he looked up at me for approval. In his eyes was tat same anticipation and search for approval I got when he was a little boy making sure his shoes were tied correctly solo for the first time. Instantly, he was that little boy again.....until he snapped to attention and the man walked out onto the parade field.