Nineteen

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Whenever I sleep really well, I always have dreams and wake up remembering them. The night I was finally able to sleep I dreamed about my dad and it was a memory I'll never forget.

FIVE YEARS AGO
I had just thrown a 14 yard touchdown pass, my third of the game. There was 5 minutes left in the fourth quarter and as I trotted off the field, my 5th and 6th grade varsity coach told me I had done a great job and was done for the day. I made my way over to the bench and took a seat on the end. A few of the guys came up and congratulated me with pats on my shoulder pads or on the top of my head. I reached for a water bottle and began taking a few small sips when someone else patted me on the shoulder pad, but still hadn't let go and instead had left his hand resting on my shoulder.

Confused, I turned around. And to my surprise, my dad was standing there in his dress blues.

"Dad!" I yelled jumping up on top of the bench so I could quickly give him a hug.

He laughed and smiled, "Hey, Mi. Nice throw out there kid."

I pulled away from the hug and touched his face, so thankful he had returned home safely. Tears were streaming down my face and I couldn't stop smiling.

"Thank you. When did you get here?" I asked.

"I've been sitting up there in the stands with your mom the whole time," he pointed up towards the bleachers and when I turned to look my mom waved frantically with a camera in hand; she was just as happy as I was.

"I'm so glad you got to watch a game, Dad."

"Me too, kid."

+

After the game my dad took my mom and I out to dinner.

"I have some bad news, Mi," my Dad announced a few bites into our meal.

"What's up?" I asked, puzzled.

"I have to go back to Afghanistan."

I set my fork down and froze in my seat, mid bite. "Why? You just got home. And wasn't this last one supposed to be your last deployment?"

"Yes, it was. But they need me back to help some other Marines in the field. It should only be a few months."

"But why can't you stay here and help? Why can't you be home, where you're safe?" My voice began to shake as I spoke.

"Maya —" My mom leaned across the table and put her hand on top of mine to try to calm me down. She knew how much this bothered me.

"Dad, you know how proud I am that you serve our country but I'm not sure how much longer I can go without you being here," I softly stated, hanging my head so they couldn't see the tears that were beginning to run down my cheeks.

"Maya, I promise this is the last time."

And he was right, it was the last time.

Because he never came home.

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