He was a heavy baby, with a thick crop of long, black hair when he came out. He was only a few hours old when we first met, his head with that conical shape of a natural birth out of his small mother.

Wife tried to babysit him when his mom went back to work, but our eldest son was only six months older, and the two of them overwhelmed her after only a few weeks. But she was still the back-up sitter, taking him and his sister when regulars fell through. Or when their dad got called to a fire (I even got that duty once or twice).

They lived only a block away, and were in all the same classes in this small town. Probably less than a dozen kids in their grade in any year until they were old enough to ride the bus to middle school in the next town.

We had him in scouts. Wife was his den leader for at least four years. But he tired of it, becoming more interested in cars, girls and sports. He and eldest son drifted apart, rarely speaking.

He got into the cowboy culture, taking up fast driving, chew, and pickup trucks. Worked part-time on a local ranch, and bulked up his frame, his confidence, and his independence. After graduation, he moved to Central City, started following his dad's career, got a girlfriend.

Today that all changes.

They had a farewell party for him yesterday, before he heads off to San Diego. Actually more of a party for his family and caregivers, the women who had helped raise him for the first 14 years of his life.

Prime rib.

His dad got too choked to speak as he looked at the women and guests in that room, toasting them for the assistance they gave in raising this young man.

But as of today he has a new parent and caregiver. And the United States will have a new Marine.