Yesterday, Jack (my husband) and I received a text from our good friend Dave Bellon.  Dave is a four time combat veteran (2 in Iraq, 2 in Afghanistan) and Colonel in the United States Marine Corps.  He and my husband go way back.  As in back to 6^th Grade.  And they have indulged in every kind of adolescent antic together – from sneaking whiskey and cigarettes on the railroad tracks, to jumping off Dave’s roof and into his pool (beers in hand) while Dave’s parents were out of town, to doing shameful things to girls who let them while they raged on Spring Break at some God-awful, dorm-like hotel in Daytona Beach.

Although we live several states apart, Dave and Jack still indulge in those meandering, soul-scrutinizing spaghetti bowl conversations that so many men quit having with their friends right around the time they graduate from college.  For those…