In this quiet moment, with the sun set and well past my bedtime...I remember my daddy. Tears fall freely as the memories of him flood my senses. Although there is great sadness, I enjoy remembering him and imagining him as a little boy with scrapped knees. A cool "James Dean" teenager, and a proud soldier. I squeeze my eyes tightly and try to imagine his voice and his hands that I loved to hold. I think of him every time the news is on. I miss our daily conversations and me thinking of questions that he could always answer. His life I deeply miss.