Born in a place I scarcely knew,

where towering skyscrapers had me feeling miniscule.

A father deployed clouded my thoughts at school,

longing for the brief phone calls ending with “I miss you.”

Bound for Hawaii I later flew,

to be reunited with the voice saying “I miss you too.”

On the flight my anticipation grew,

to see the one man I looked up to.   

Once arrived my life began,

suitcase and model airplane grasped in my hand.

I see the man with the red VW van,

to him, my siblings and I impatiently ran.

On hot summer days we’d head to the beach,

holding on to the hand I could hardly reach.

“We’re living the dream” my dad preached,

as we watch the humpback whales offshore breach.

Each day I learn and grow,

not a thought wasted on Chicago’s dull and freezing snow.

Over Hickam Air Force Base a ground-shaking airshow,

influencing the path I wanted to go.

Eight years later the adventures over,

tears in my eyes trying to hold my composure.

I watch the last F-15’s flyover,

watching my island go by, I try to find closure.