I stared up at the ball in disbelief. It was actually headed our way. My 10-year-old son and I sprang to our feet as nearly every eye in Fenway Park looked in our direction. This was the moment we were here for.
I delight in the time I’ve spent with my son. There are gaps in these memories, however, because I have not always been home. Choosing a career in the Navy has been challenging. I often have felt guilty when my service kept me from my family. After returning from duty in Afghanistan when my son was only 8, I had been stunned by how grown up he sounded. He spoke differently than when I had left the year before. I had missed part of watching him grow up.