Family Man

Photo Credit: Defence Images (Flickr)

by Abiel Llanes

I was a family man, a kind father figure. I was always witty and cunning, always the center of attention, especially with the ladies. After graduation I endured rigorous and dangerous training and through my hard work and determination I quickly rose through the ranks. I fell love, a beautiful and intelligent woman by the name of Isabel. It wasn’t long before we had a family of our own and we were very happy. I’m standing now on the top of a hill overlooking a large group of people who are burying one of their own. A widower, with here family, sobbing at the sight of a spectacle. A row of four cadets, each carrying a rifle, each fired three shots each in unison into the sky and each shot indicating how many years the person had served. The last shot was shot by a corporal who was a close friend to the deceased. After everyone had left I walked down to the grave and chiseled on the slap:

JOHN MARSHALL

1842-1864

FAMILY MAN

There is no going back. I must learn to let go and move forward. This is what my family would want.

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