“And now a moment of silence for our beloved fallen,” says Father. It has been a long week and a very sad one.

On Monday, my mom answered the door to a stranger in uniform, while I sat in the other room trying to listen. I saw the man say something and my mother collapse to the floor in tears. I didn't have to hear his words to know what had happened.

He was gone. It was a very noble and sad way to go, fighting for our country, but it doesn't change the fact that I wished it hadn't happened.

“Now in memory of our brother, would you turn your attention south for a 21-gun salute.” Everyone turns in unison, as if controlled by some higher force. That makes me think, What are we really just puppets on strings? What if the choices we make aren't really ours? What if we just think they're ours but they're really influenced by those higher than us? What if …

My thoughts are interrupted by 21 guns firing for my dad, and it reminds me of the real reason I am here. I'm not here to sit around wondering about random things. No, I am here to remember my dad, who lost his life in Iraq, and all those who have died fighting for our country, our families, and our freedom.

I look up to see 21 soldiers unfolding a flag and handing it to the priest. Delicately Father drapes the clean American flag over my father's coffin. And that's when I know he is gone and isn't ever coming back.

Then everyone leaves like they have something better to do, something more important. I tell myself to calm down, that they didn't know him like I did. Eventually it's just me and the caretakers. I stand there and watch them bury my dad, hoping he will come up behind me and say, “Are you coming? It's time to go.” I wish he were still here, that it didn't have to end this way, that he could have stayed.

Finally even the caretakers leave. Now it's just me. I walk over to my father's grave, stare at it for a few minutes hoping it will just be over with. Then I cry.

I cry and cry until the tears won't come anymore. Eventually I just stare at the dirt on top of my father's coffin, the flags all around his grave and the cemetery, and the tombstone. Then I cry some more.