As my son’s graduation from the Coast Guard Academy draws near,  I pause to reflect on what I have witnessed.  On that Induction Day back in July of ’99,  after  I said good-bye to him, I walked  directly to the chapel and pleaded with God to watch over my son. My husband worried all that first summer.  I started to worry  that first semester of classes. As anyone who reads Shipmate knows, “they” can kick you out should your GPA fall under 2.0. Since that first semester, Brian has consistently fluctuated between a 1.9 and a 2.1.  I have consistently  fluctuated between  rosary beads and Tylenol P.M.

 

One day early in that first semester he saw the ocean racing team setting off down the Thames River  for a weekend  on the open ocean. Brian  wanted nothing more than to go with them. Shortly after that, Brian had finagled his way onto the ocean racing team  and stayed with it for the four years. My husband  and I would drive up to Annapolis to meet him when the races were held there . Going to watch your son participate  in ocean racing is like watching submarine races. They cast off early in the morning, and reappear around 4 or 5 that afternoon. But in the evenings Brian was ours, and  we could take him out to dinner. 

 

One weekend I sensed considerable unease in my son. Brian was grappling with Physics II the second time around,  and from what  he shared with us, we gathered  he was uncertain of how this would turn out.  Bookie’s roommate and his wife, Scott and Barb Krajnik, had invited the three of us to stay at their house in Saverna Park that weekend, and they joined us for dinner at a Mexican restaurant on Saturday night.

 

Brian was quiet , and so was I,  watching him. But this was ok because Scott was making enough noise for all five of us as he reminisced with Bookie. I sat there and loved Scott for the evening he was giving us. When my husband is with this  particular soul-mate  from the Class of ‘73, there is a side to him that comes out that  is just plain lovely to see.  That deep bond of friendship between the two of them  - the unabashed love they have for each other – warms all who happen to be with them.  Brian has seen this intermittently over the years. Our wanderings  with the Navy haven’t allowed us many long evenings over dinner with these good friends. But Brian witnessed it   again that evening as listened to the tales of days long gone by, yet so similar to the world in which he was now immersed.

 

A couple of days after that weekend, Bookie got an email from Brian . In the spare bedroom Brian had slept in, he had spotted one of the black velvet-covered cases that he knew usually held medals. It was on the floor of the spare room, thrown among some other stuff. Brian had taken a look inside, and saw a Legion of Merit Award. He knew this was a highly coveted award, and not given out  frequently. This young cadet was quite impressed. He asked his father   to tell him what Scott had done to receive such a  prestigious award.  And why would he just leave it there? Bookie replied, telling him in the first  paragraph the reason Scott had  received the Legion  of Merit. In the second paragraph, Bookie told his son  not to be too much concerned about medals.

 

 

Book has a couple of those medals, but own son didn’t know about them.

 

 

During the following Christmas leave, over lunch with Brian, I told him about his father’s medals. He did not say much. He  listened intently as I spoke, paused for a moment of silence, and then silently nodded his head in acknowledgement – a reaction to  information that has increased in my son  the more time he has spent at USCGA. He then told me about how his grades were going – not good – but he hoped that his military ranking would help him out. Brian was now in his third year, but he  had never spoken of a military ranking. I asked him what that number was. When  he told me, I asked him to please tell his father this, as it would mean so much to him.

 

He said no. “How can I do that, Mom? Dad doesn’t even talk about his medals.”

 

Over the years, I have lectured both my sons till I was blue in the face trying to tell them how to do things right. Bookie has quietly walked  through his life – good days and bad days - as a living example  to his sons of  how to do things right. Just as Scott has done for his daughters, Jack Rush  for his children, Howard Sidman for his – the list goes on and on  and it covers all those people I have come to know so well as the 16th Company, Class of ’73.

 

The day after graduation, Brian  is flying to Florida to attend his best friend’s wedding.   This gives me almost as much joy as his graduation itself.  The lessons have been learned. When all is said and done,  it is the friendships with which  he leaves  on that much-longed for graduation day that will serve him best. This bond of friendship will only deepen between the two of them , and the unabashed love they have for each other will warm all who happen to be with them. 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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