This morning I opened my laptop and at 74 years of age with two grandchildren, it finally happened, I was looking at an actual recruitment page for a special corps of the Marines. It was personalized, with my birthday! This took my breath away. The requirement for this section of the corps. is specialized. First there is a rigorous physical exam. Swimming is required. There was a photo of a young man dropping on a rope from a helicopter into a rough sea. Silent intelligence gathering is also a requirement.

I am way, way too old for this. But I kept studying the recruitment information. I live on a Great Lake…fresh water. I have lived on The Gulf Coast, the Atlantic Coast, and the Pacific Coast. I watch “Shark Week” and I know there is a shark out there just waiting for me to drop into its mouth. However at my age I am sure I am not that tasty.

But after having four babies and going through menopause I might have been the right stuff. I had to raise two boys and two girls through adolescence, teaching each to drive, and enduring horrifying parent teacher conferences, I was angry all the time which is part of menopause. I swam in the cold and rough water of Lake Michigan, until it froze at the shoreline. I made five beds a day and washed that mountain of bedding once a week. I caught the washing machine trying to pull its own plug when it was midway through its spin cycle. I cooked dinner seven nights a week, and never resorted to paper plates at least I told my friends I never did. I also got a job because my husband thought I would cheer up if I taught Kindergarten!

I would have signed up for the Marines at that time in my life. I was young, strong, and stealthy. I could swim! Teaching took away my fear of sharks. Raising children took away my fear of death. My daughter was letting her boyfriend into her room at night by letting him in through her window. I found where she kept her little notes to him, and that taught me about information gathering. I paid as much in daycare as I made. I took the kids to my mother’s house on the beach. My mother made me battle tested. I heard her call out to me “Sharon, could you get the baby? He’s awake.” I went into the darkened bedroom. He was awake and naked. He had his diaper off and had diarrhea. He had had enough time to coat the walls, the inside of the crib, and all of himself in poop. I instantly grabbed him and ran down the beach to the end of the dock and jumped in with him. I would have made a good Marine. There should be a unit of Marines called Mad Menopausal Moms. My mother would have signed up that day despite her age. God help the recruitment person who would tell her no.