I am the daughter of a warrior. My father was a bomber pilot in WWII and the Viet Nam War. My mother watched the bombing of Pearl Harbor from her bathroom window on Hickam Air Force Base, Hawaii. I am also the sister, aunt, cousin, former spouse and friend of countless military personnel. My love and respect for those who serve - and for those of us who wait and hope for their safe return - is boundless and deep.

At his core, my father was a man of peace. He grew up on a sheep ranch in northern Nevada. He carried sick or injured lambs until they were strong enough to walk with their mothers. He learned to nurture and raise healthy animals in a stark and challenging environment. He could kill for food or to relieve an animal's suffering but never for pleasure. His warrior heart was as tender as it was strong. He believed those wars would bring peace; so did I.

I think the Viet Nam era was the most challenging. At one point my father and my brother (by congressional waiver) flew combat...