Dear Dad, I'm sorry

Dear Dad, 

I'm sorry.

I'm sorry it took me over 18 months to lay you to rest -- the line was long, and I thought the wait would be worth it.

I'm sorry.

I thought putting you in hallowed ground would mean something.

I remember when I was younger I asked you why the Navy kept sending us to all the hot places (Rota, Spain; Republic of Panama, San Diego, CA) and you said it was because they were accommodating your asthma, allowing you to continue to serve your country in support of critical national security requirements. 

You were from Brooklyn, New York, where your Puerto Rican family emigrated and built a life for you and your siblings. But the cold weather there could kill you-it often sent you to the hospital when we visited for the holidays.

So, I'm sorry that I moved you to Arlington, Virginia, where the weather is just like Brooklyn's.

I thought putting you in hallowed ground would mean something.

They did place a beautiful wreath on your headstone this past Christmas, but I know, I can hear you now, yes snow did follow a few weeks later.

Not sure if you heard-we've had yet another administration change, and this one doesn't think your 40 years of Naval and Civil service means much. They've spent the last few weeks firing many of your peers and now they're trying to erase history by whitewashing (pun intended) the stories of your Arlington neighbors.

I thought putting you in hallowed ground would mean something.

I'm sorry.

If I could take you back to sunny California, I would.

I'm sorry.

Love Laura