The Crest We Carry

My family crest is something I have thought about creating for a long time. Remembering where you come from is important. As brothers and sisters grow older, they eventually separate, build their own lives, and create different legacies. But no matter how far apart life takes us, I believe there should always be something that reminds us that we came from the same family.

Maybe that symbol is a ring. Maybe it is a painting hanging in a home, a seal pressed into the wax of a letter, or a crest passed from one generation to the next. The object itself is not what matters most. What matters is what it represents: the responsibility to make the family legacy worthy of being remembered.

When you are young, you grow up beside your brothers and sisters under the same roof. Then one day, each of you walks into the world with different ideas about what life is supposed to be. Eventually, you realize that you are responsible for creating your own reality. You make sacrifices. You make mistakes. You learn from them.

Sometimes no one is going to come and rescue you.

Sometimes doing the right thing is much harder than doing what is easy.

That is when your character matters.

I have always believed that your last name and your word can be the beginning of your wealth. Money can disappear, possessions can be lost, and circumstances can change overnight. But a person should have a word that means something. If you give your word, you should stand behind it. You should not be afraid to speak the truth, even when the truth costs you something.

I have carried that belief for most of my life.

Some people have told me that I carry myself too seriously. But they have not walked in my shoes. They have not seen what I have seen or experienced what I have experienced. The fact that I am even sitting here writing this is a testament to my mother’s efforts, my parents’ sacrifices, and my own determination to succeed.

I recently moved to Texas, and this move has humbled me.

I have always been grateful for my parents, but this is the first time in my life when I truly feel as though no one is holding my hand. I believe they trust me to make the right decisions. The difficult part is admitting that sometimes I am not even sure whether I am making them.

Right now, I sleep on a mattress on the floor. I have a refrigerator full of food, a roof over my head, and struggles of my own that I am trying to overcome, including my relationship with alcohol.

It is not always easy to change.

It is not always easy to choose discipline.

It is not always easy to do the honorable thing.

But difficulty does not excuse us from trying.

My friend Sean Lynch has been a source of motivation for me. He was also a Marine, and both of us are trying to build something greater than ourselves a network and brotherhood of Marines who can continue helping one another after the uniform comes off. Finding the right people is not always easy.

Sean and I are sometimes like steel against steel. We challenge each other. We are both learning. We are both trying to overcome things. And perhaps that friction is part of what makes us stronger.

That is also how I think about my crest.

Whenever my name is attached to something, I want to place it in the highest position I possibly can—not because I believe I am better than anyone else, but because it carries my family name and the legacy I hope to leave behind.

I want to honor that name.

I want the people who come after me to inherit something more valuable than money. I want them to inherit a reputation. A standard. A reminder that someone before them struggled, sacrificed, failed, stood back up, and kept moving forward.

It has been a long time since I have written something like this.

Maybe Apartment 209 will make life difficult for the next year. Maybe there will be days when I question every decision that brought me here. But I have determined that this is the path I must take if I am going to achieve the goals I have set for myself.

One step at a time.

One sacrifice at a time.

One victory at a time.

And if you are reading this while going through your own difficult season, I want you to know that you are not alone.

Build something worth leaving behind.

Protect your name.

Keep your word.

Do not be afraid to stand for what is right.

And when the road becomes difficult, remember that faith is not only something we carry when life is comfortable. Faith matters most when we cannot see what comes next.

Leave a legacy worthy of your name.

Semper Fidelis. To our family, to our principles, and above all, to God.

Jesus Christ.