Who am I?

This is an interesting question because it depends on when you ask. 

If you ask me on a late Friday night, while I'm sitting on my couch watching television with my wife, holding my baby boy, and wondering if my other two (not so baby) boys are asleep, I'm a dad.

If you were to ask me who I am on a Saturday morning before I roll out of bed, while my wife sleeps next to me, I'm a husband.

Should you decide to ask me what I do instead of who I am, I would tell you I write.

There are times when one must decide which is the right hat to wear, and sometimes you don't have a choice. Like when I was deployed to Afghanistan: for those months, I was a Soldier, and little else. But the moment that I received a Red Cross Message informing me that my little girl was deathly sick, I was a dad. For the entire ride home from the Hindu Kush mountains of Afghanistan, through Kuwait, through Washington Dulles airport, and finally to Alexandria, Louisiana, I was a dad.

In the month following my return flight home from Afghanistan, as my wife and I slept by our daughter's side in the Pediatric ICU, wondering if her condition would improve, I was hovering between a husband and a father. Often times unsure of which was more important for the moment.

When we left the hospital, without our daughter, and attended her funeral, I learned that I had to be both at the same time. Because while you may get a different answer to the question, "Who are you?", depending on the circumstance, the truth is, I am all of those things. I'm a husband, a dad, a son, a Soldier and a writer. Sometimes I'm better at one of them than the others and sometimes I'm terrible at all of them. I'm sure my sons would corroborate that statement.

So, who am I? I am what I need to be for my family and my country, and hopefully, I'm a little fun, too.

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