In the past three years I and many others have had to come to terms with the lives we live. We wait up to see if our loved ones are coming home. Whether we see them walk through the door or in my case the nightly text messages I receive telling me "Goodnight, I love you." Simple day to day activities I would have taken for granted and at one point found annoying, that now I cannot live without. You see three years ago the life our pride and honor that I had I my favorite person, was suddenly being defiled, tainted and killed by media. My hero now had a bigger target on his back, and there was nothing I could do to help.

Every case in recent years has been different. I won't pretend I know all the details because at seventeen, eighteen, and nineteen, it was too hard to watch. I cannot imagine the grief of any of the family's on either side watching their loved one's final moments of life being displayed in the nightly news, for an entire country to judge. I cannot imagine the disappointment knowing that someone I love had made a wrong choice, whether in a split second, or with their life, that now would be the only thing they would be remembered for. I won't pretend there aren't bad apples in the tree. I won't pretend that if it were me, I would've made better choices. All I can do is tell you my side.

My side sits and watches Twitter rant and rave about how all lives matter. Sits and watches when those same people are faced with that same reality without a phone screen, are silent and do nothing. My side drives my friends around campus as they yell out "PIGS" or worse slander that I am not allowed to write. Drives and says nothing because what can I say to change their mind? My side watches the news of more and more police shootings, like that of Dallas that swept the nation, and the small town of Maryville, Tennessee.

I watched the coverage of the Dallas shooting all day with my hero on our once a year vacation. I watched my hero cry faint tears that no one else saw but me. Then, not even two months later I sat in the stands of my college roommate's high school football stadium, for a moment of silence, for a man I'll never know but forever be linked to because our lives are the same. I will always be fortunate that I have had many years with my hero, and will forever be grateful.

Living a life in the shadows of the blue is something I will never be ashamed of. I will always thank someone for their service, both foreign and domestic, that's just how I was raised. And my hero will always be my hero. But most days I just call him Dad.