No one told me about the deployment until the week before. My brother had known for weeks, my mom had known for months, not me. The whole week leading up to it felt surreal. The night before I rolled around on my narrow twin bed, trying to imagine what things would be like without my dad around for 18 months.

As I crawl out of bed ready to greet the day I have been dreading, I could feel a large pit already building in my stomach.

I walk down the stairs with care to not step on the creaky spots. Glancing up through my blonde hair I notice my father from across the room. He is kneeling by the fireplace with a photo of his father in his hand. The photo shows my grandfather in Vietnam, looking very dirty in a khaki green shirt. Behind him, there is nothing but dust. This is just what you do in my family, if there is a war you take a deep breath, and you go help. For generations, we leave our families to go fix problems that are not ours. I looked at the clock, 6:23, there is almost no time left.