On this day. There are so many men and women that we should celebrate, and thank. So many that have given their all so that we can have the luxuries and time we have each day. My hero. My veteran is my father.

He flew B25's. He was a pilot. Was a Captain. And it's funny. I have his flight jacket. The one he wore each and every day that he unselfishly gave his time and potentially his life, to give me the luxury of living the life I do. And when I put it on I get chills. I feel that I haven't earned the right to even put that jacket on. Because never once did he whine, complain, say he was sick, or even gave it a second thought. When every day he climbed into the left seat of that B25. Strapped him self in. Went through his check list. Fired up that plane.  And took off on another mission.  And along with his crew. He ran bombing missions over and over. With the potential of each day not coming home. Not coming back to the base. Of being shot out of the air. I can't for a minute imagine what was going through his mind on every one of those days. Risking his life over and over. And I think I have tough things to work out during the day.

To my number one veteran. My hero. My father. Thank you for what you did for me. And for this country. I will never be able to pay you back for what you did. You are my hero.