Today marks five years since my father’s funeral. I hadn’t been back to his grave since his funeral but on my last trip to Florida, just a couple weeks ago, I finally made the trip and introduced my son to his grandfather. The day of my father’s funeral marked a changing point in my life. When the gunshots rang out, that might even be the very moment of that change. Suddenly, in that very moment, I understood all of the things that my father was – disciplined, dedicated to his family, self-sacrificing, hard-working –  a military man. I had never appreciated his being in the service until that moment. In fact, I always told myself I would never date a military man. But at that moment, when it all became clear, I thought to myself, “Maybe that’s exactly what I need.”

After his funeral, I drove straight to Atlanta and a week later I started my second year of grad school. And ten days after I graduated I moved to Congo, and I never looked back. And I found myself a military man. He did four years active duty in the Airforce. And I love that about him. I wish he could have met my father. They would have been best friends. And even more, I wish my father could have met Dasan, more than anything I wish for this. He would have made my father so proud. And so happy.