In 2020 - the beginning of the COVID epidemic - I was unable to attend my oldest son's graduation from West Point. Fast forward to today and that same son has performed over 30 jumps out of perfectly good airplanes, Helped secure the last of the buildings and supplies at the Kandahar airport, and has recently become an O3, Captain. I can't tell you the overwhelming swell of pride I have for him and his accomplishments in such a very short time but, as a dad, I suffer with the knowledge that he works in a hazardous job and that at any moment I could get the word that something bad or lethal has happend to him. The respect I have for him is immense. It's not all dire and dismal, but there is a serious level of seriousness that goes with volunteering to be put in positions. These people cope with the fear of death from many different opportunities that arise...and that gives rise to a warped sense of humor to overcome the dread. (Anyone cares to ask, my son has a zamboni in Afghanistan story that'll have you in stitches.) I'm thankful that he is an accomplished leader and a capable officer. He has seen the death of friends and classmates, and he still has a positive attitude throughout it all. We, more than most, are starkly reminded of those that served (even if only at West Point and never made it to service in the field) and died should be respected, protected, and held dear. Memorial Day for me and my family is a serious day of reflection and remembering our military family and friends who left this world far too soon. And....I love you, son.
