3,988Song:
"Learning to Fly," Tom Petty & the Heartbreakers
Epilogue
Edward
What can only be described as a stifled shriek precedes my wife storming into our bedroom.
"What's got your panties in a twist?"
She wheels around and narrows her eyes at me. "Your daughter."
"My daughter?" I zip the garment bag and lay it over the packed suitcase. "Since when is she only my daughter?"
"Since she decided to use half of my brand-new moisturizer as hand lotion this morning." She waves the familiar little glass jar of stuff she slathers on her face every night in the air. "Do you have any idea how much this stuff costs?"
"Oh, come on. You don't need any of those lotions and potions." I grab her by the waist and pull her toward me. She's stiff in my arms, but her expression isn't as tight. In an attempt to cool her ire, if only a little, I kiss her lips. "You're as beautiful as you were the day I met you."
She scowls. "Only because I use all those lotions and potions. I didn't luck out in the genetic lottery like some people. I actually have to work to not look my age. How else do you think I keep the crow's feet away?"
"Still, you don't need it." I kiss her nose. "But I'll talk to her if you want me to."
All the fight seems to leave her with her heavy exhale. "Please. Some days it's like she only listens to you."
I pat her backside and release her to grab our suitcase and garment bag. "That's because she knows how to get to you, baby. She knows her old man won't fold under the pressure. Don't forget, I used to eat butter bars for breakfast," I toss over my shoulder, referring to second lieutenants. Pausing at the doorway, I turn back to see her fighting a grin. "I can't be bested by a nine-year-old."
"Get out of here," she says with a laugh as she puts the jar in her carry-on bag. "And maybe stop by your little princess's room."
I give her a half-assed salute and a smile. "Yes, ma'am."
Her giggles fade as I walk farther away from our room, and after I've set our bags in the foyer, I head down the hallway to search for my girl.
The years following my return from Iraq were a whirlwind, but they were also some of the best of my life. Television appearances and interviews filled the first few months, and I admit I enjoyed my fifteen minutes of fame. In fact, on the bookshelf in my office, right next to a copy of my surprisingly successful memoir, we have a framed picture of Jay Leno and me when I was a guest on The Tonight Show. Bella still teases me about how often I used to pull it out to show people.
For me, though, the highlight of those early months after the accident has to be when we flew to Washington, D.C. to meet each and every member of the team responsible for my rescue. I will never forget their courage and dedication to their country, and being able to thank them face to face for bringing me home to my family was a privilege for which I'll always be grateful. It was an emotional experience for not only me but for Bella, too. Overwhelmed with appreciation, we both shed tears that day.
We also both shed a few the day we found out we were going to be parents again.
With no active duty assignments in my immediate future, we decided to start trying for a baby not long after I returned home. Even though the doctors advised us that Bella was considered "of an advanced age" and it might have been difficult to conceive, once she had her IUD removed, it only took two months to see the plus sign on the test stick.
With our baby's impending arrival, I pushed myself through the rest of the required therapy until I was once again declared fit for duty. When that day finally came, our first big move with the boys was to D.C. And with the move came a promotion to Colonel.
But nothing—not even a promotion in rank—could compare to the happiness I felt the moment my own flesh and blood was placed in my arms.
Emily Rose Cullen was six pounds and ten ounces of absolute perfection, and aside from her having Bella's button nose, I was told over and over she was a spitting image of me. Her wispy copper hair stood in all directions, and her eyes were the most beautiful grey I'd ever seen … and, according to my mother, exactly the same color as mine when I was born.
After my fellowship in D.C.—my time as a student and a deputy—came my reassignment with the 31st fighter wing in Aviano, but as Group Commander this time around. The kids loved Italy as much as we did, and they adjusted well to the experience of military life. But just as they had gotten into a routine, we were reassigned to Spangdahlem in Germany. During my two years there as the Wing Commander to the 52nd fighter wing, I received yet another promotion.
Brigadier General.
It was a dream realized in many ways. I felt a special kind of accomplishment to make it to that stage, to continue the legacy laid out before me by my father and grandfather. That star on my boards followed me back to the states to serve at Holloman in New Mexico and then on to the Pentagon in Arlington where I was nominated for another star and promoted once again.
Major General.
My next assignment in Langley brought with it what would be my last nomination. When I was told I was up for another star, Bella and I talked about it from every angle. My acceptance would have meant a years-long assignment in Southern Asia. The opportunity was huge and part of me really wanted it. But a huge part of me also knew the toll my job had already taken on my family, and I wasn't sure I could ask more of them. At the time, Jacob was ready to start his last year of college, and Seth had just graduated from high school and wanted to enroll at ASU. I worried if I committed to two years away, I'd miss too much and regret it later. In the end, my heart wouldn't allow me to be separated from my wife, daughter, and stepsons for that long. So, with their wants and needs in mind—as well as my own—I decided it was time to hang up my bags. My family had sacrificed so much, I had missed so much, but I had also accomplished what I'd set out to do.
I retired from the Air Force as a general, just like two generations of Cullen men before me.
And now as I walk toward Emily's room, I count my blessings for being able to return to Phoenix, to the place where our story began.
I knock on her open door and peer inside where she sits on her bed, wiping at her cheeks. "Hey, Em."
Her sad green eyes meet mine. "Hey, Daddy." She drags the back of her hand across her nose. "I told Mom I was sorry, but I think she's still mad at me."
Sitting beside her on her bed, I wrap an arm around her shoulders and brush a tangle of copper curls from her face. "She's upset, but she'll be okay. She's not mad at you, Em. I think she's … frustrated. This isn't the first time you've gotten into her stuff. And we've talked about this more than once. If you want to use something of hers, you need to ask."
Her tiny shoulders fall. "I know." She looks up at me, and her puppy dog eyes are almost my undoing. "But it smells so good, Daddy."
I chuckle and kiss the top of her head. "I know it does. But it's still not yours. Next time you need to—"
"I need to ask. I know."
"Good." I hug her to me then stand, looking around her room and spotting her suitcase. "Are you all packed?"
She nods. "Yeah, Mom already came in and checked my bag."
"All right. I'll take it so it's ready to go."
As I pass the next door in the hallway, I stop and knock. "Seth? Can I come in?"
The door opens and I find the brown gaze of my stepson. He rubs sleep from his eyes. "Everything okay? Is it time for you to leave?"
"Almost. I just wanted to make sure you have what you need for your flight Wednesday."
"Yeah, I'm good. Dad is picking me up, and he has all our flight information. No worries, Babbo. I've got it covered."
The nickname he and Jacob adopted while we lived in Italy makes me grin. It always does. "And did you finally get in touch with your professor about that lab he never graded?"
"It's all good. Like I said, I've got it covered. Everything will be taken care of before we fly up Wednesday."
While Jacob knew from the time he started high school what path he wanted to take, Seth is taking a little longer to make his decision. He graduated with an impressive GPA last year, but while he started classes at ASU last fall, he's still undecided on a major. He's a good kid and gets good grades, but he also spends an awful lot of late nights with his friends, not to mention his girlfriend.
I glance over my shoulder and back to Seth, lowering my voice. "And I don't have to remind you that we're not stupid. I don't want to get a phone call from Claire's father bitching about his daughter staying over. Whatever you get up to while we're gone, stay out of trouble. And for God's sake, be safe and use a condom."
He chuckles and nods. "I'm good. Picked up a new box yesterday."
"Good. And that's all I want to know, got it?"
"Got it."
"We have about fifteen minutes before your mom goes into her pre-departure freak out mode. She's going to go through her spiel and drill us with her reminders and checklists, and we're going to dutifully listen and let her say what she needs to say."
With a salute and a smile, he says, "Yes, Sir."
The sun is bright overhead on this perfect May morning. The air in Colorado Springs is considerably lighter than in Phoenix. And while we've been here a few days already, attending some of the pre-graduation events, today feels different. The sun feels warmer. The air feels more refreshing.
Or maybe it's the pride causing me to stand a little taller and breathe a little deeper, because today is the day Jacob follows in my footsteps.
"Hey, Mom." Seth wraps Bella in a hug before grabbing his sister, too. "Hey, squirt."
"Put me down!" Emily squeals, but it's half-hearted at best.
He releases Emily, but Bella stays at his side. Since he now towers over her, she peers up at him. "Did you have a good flight?"
"We did." He chuckles. "I fell asleep as soon as we boarded."
"How did things go with your dad?" I ask, mindful of the tension between them in recent months.
"They were fine." Seth turns to scan the crowd, and after a moment of searching, his gaze finally lands on Garrett. "We had a chance to talk. Everything's good."
As if he heard us talking about him, Garrett breaks through the crowd and looks our way.
The last ten years have not been as kind to him as they have to us. Even though he's close to my age, he doesn't look it. Years of managing construction crews have carved deep lines on his face and haven't been kind to his body. But even beyond the outward physical signs of his age, the way he carries himself—like the weight of the world rests on his hunched shoulders—is yet another indication that he's a broken man.
When he allowed Bella and me to take the boys with us when I was reassigned, it was a blessing, and not only because we were able to have them with us. It also protected them from witnessing first-hand yet another implosion of a marriage.
Garrett and Kate tried for a while to have a child of their own, but they were never able to conceive. Apparently, it was enough stress to reveal a few cracks in their relationship, because two years ago, Garrett caught his wife in bed with one of her much younger coworkers. He filed for divorce the following week and has been single since.
"Good to see you, Garrett." I reach a hand out to shake his, and he takes it.
"You, too." He looks around and whistles. "This is gonna be quite the show, isn't it?"
He's right. Even on this side of the gates, Falcon Stadium is brimming with people here to watch the graduation ceremony. The buzz humming through the air is almost electrified with excitement.
The corner of my mouth turns up. "It is. But just about everything the Air Force puts on comes with a little pomp and circumstance."
"Hey, Gar," Bella says as she steps to my side, sliding an arm around my waist. "I'm glad you could fly up."
"I wouldn't miss it. I'm proud of him, Bella. He's doing a great thing." His gaze snaps to mine then back to Bella as he clears his throat. "He's had a great role model."
Before the awkwardness of the moment becomes too great, the tension is broken by the arrival of Bella's mother, my parents and Garrett's, trailed closely by Emmett and Rose.
"Oh, Bella," Renee says, beaming as she walks directly to her daughter. "What a special day!"
It's a rare occurrence these days to see Renee smile. Some days only Emily's antics can bring it out in her, so it's a welcome sight.
We lost Charlie four years ago to a heart attack. It was sudden, and it was devastating. The only silver lining to the dark cloud was that we were stateside at the time and Bella could be with her sister at her mother's side in a matter of hours. The following months were hard on everyone, myself included. Charlie was always the voice of reason; a no-nonsense, gentle man who adored his family.
His presence is greatly missed, especially on occasions like this one.
"Hey, Mom." Bella allows Renee to wrap her in a hug and they both close their eyes. "It's a very special day."
Renee pulls back and cups Bella's cheeks in her hands. "I'm so proud of him. Your father would be, too."
Bella smiles through watery eyes. "I'm sure he's smiling down on us right now."
"He is. I'm sure of it." Renee turns to me, pointing an accusing finger my way. "And you. You must be strutting around here like a proud peacock."
"Me?" I ask, feigning a shred of humility when really, I am that proud peacock on the inside. "I don't know what you're talking about."
"You know exactly what I'm talking about. This one over here"—she jerks her thumb over her shoulder, toward my father—"was almost as bad the whole way here."
I smile at the old man and reach out to shake his hand. "Dad."
"None of that." He pushes my hand away and reaches for me, slapping me on the back. It's quite a strong slap for a man nearly eighty. "We have every right to strut around like proud peacocks," he murmurs in my ear. "I'm damn proud of that boy. He's going to do amazing things, just like you did. And you're going to give a spectacular speech today."
"My turn." My mother wedges herself between us and holds onto me. "I can't believe our little Jacob is graduating today. And you get to give the commencement speech. I can hardly believe it."
When the grandparents focus their attention on Emily and Seth, Emmett edges his way to me. "Don't get me wrong," he says softly, "I love my mother-in-law, but when you get her together with your mom, they're a handful."
I breathe a laugh. "Sorry about that. We would have brought Renee with us on Thursday, but she wasn't feeling up to attending the whole week of activities. I also didn't think she'd be comfortable in the Cessna, even for such a short flight."
He waves me off. "No, it's fine. But those two in an airport gift shop? Man, we almost missed our flight."
I slap him on the shoulder and take a step toward the gates now that everyone's here. "I'm glad you made it. This is a big day for all of us."
"Are you ready to speak in front of all these people?" he asks.
"Not even remotely." I laugh. "But I wouldn't trade the moment for anything."
Once we make it inside the stadium, everyone in our group walks toward the seats unofficially reserved for our family, but Bella and I lag behind.
"Have I told you lately how much I love you?" she asks, reaching for my hand.
"You might have mentioned it a time or two."
She stops, halting our steps, and turns to face me. She runs her hands over my shoulders, brushing her fingers along the stars on my boards and then my lapels. Her palms rest on my chest, and the light pressure of her touch grounds me in the moment. "I do, Edward. I love you more than anything, aside from our children, and knowing you're part of such a monumental day for Jacob means more to me than you'll ever know."
"I love you, too, baby."
"Now, go give the most incredible speech ever so our boy can get his butter bars, General."
With a smile on my lips, I lean in to kiss her. "Yes, ma'am."
The ceremony stage is set up in the middle of the field with rows upon rows of white chairs lined up in front of it. While I'm sitting with former colleagues and superiors, and even the cadet squadron of distinction, a sea of blue, white, and gold appears in the wings of the stadium.
I'm struck with a sudden, strong wave of emotion when the announcer says, "May I present to you the graduating class of 2019?" Music plays, announcing their arrival, and row by row, step by step, they march in, eventually filling the rows of seats.
As I told Garrett, everything the Air Force does is done in some form of grand ceremony, and this is no exception.
"Graduates, halt," the announcer says over the speakers. "Left face. Present arms." As one, the cadets turn to face the stage and salute. "Please remain standing for the national anthem and invocation."
Everyone in the stands and everyone on the stage rises to their feet, while the cadets hold their salute. The familiar song, one I've heard countless times, sounds different today. And maybe that's because of the significance of the day. I couldn't be more proud of Jacob and his decision to carry on the Cullen legacy, even if his last name isn't Cullen. But that's merely a technicality. In my heart, he and Seth are my sons.
When the final notes of the anthem play, the announcer speaks once more. "Wing, order, arms. At ease." The cadets lower their hands and stand at attention. The chaplain gives the invocation, and then the cadets and everyone else in attendance take their seats. The Academy's superintendent gives the first speech, followed by the Air Force Chief of Staff, and the Secretary of the Air Force. It isn't until her remarks turn to family and reflection that a lump forms in my throat.
"To the class of 2019, as you look around the stadium today, you'll see a reminder that none of you did this alone. We're joined by family, friends, teachers, mentors, and coaches who encouraged you and invested time, treasure, and love in you. The only appropriate response to that generosity is gratitude. I hope that in the midst of all the celebrating you'll be doing in the days to come, you will take time to reflect and to thank those to whom you are truly grateful in a way that would be the most meaningful to them. And to the parents here, I know this is a day of mixed emotions. After all, it seems like only months ago when you dropped off your child at kindergarten or let go of the back of their bike for the first time."
Visions of the last dozen years flash through my mind, and while I wasn't there for Jacob's first day of kindergarten or to help him learn how to ride a bike, I was there the first time he grabbed the controls in the Cessna. I helped him through his first broken heart when he was too embarrassed to tell his mother the girl he liked didn't feel the same. And I'm the one he came to when he wanted to take the same path I did.
I've been here to witness him growing into the man he's become.
"As I travel around to our bases and meet airmen around the world," the Secretary continues, "I very often find myself amazed at their dedication, their expertise, their competence, and their commitment to our mission in the defense of our republic. Sometimes I reflect and wonder, where do we find these men and women? The answer is you raised them. You molded them into the young men and women they are today. And you as parents have entrusted them to us. We will train them well and seek to lead them wisely."
By the time she introduces me, the lump in my throat has lessened, replaced by nervous energy rippling through me. But with one glance out at the crowd where Jacob is seated among his fellow cadets, that nervousness fades. By being invited to give the commencement speech, I've been given a gift. It isn't every day a father is able to be part of their child's graduation, let alone one that will usher in his service to the U.S. military.
"I present to you, a fellow graduate of the Academy and an American hero, retired Major General Edward Cullen."
I stand to a round of enthusiastic applause and take my place behind the podium. As I look out over the assembled cadets, almost a thousand beaming faces stare back at me. As the applause dies down, I sneak a peek at my notes. With my stepson in the audience, this moment probably means as much to me as it does to all of them, even if it's for different reasons.
With a shaky breath, I look up.
"Thank you, everyone. It's a beautiful day here at the foot of the majestic Rocky Mountains, the peaks of which rise up into the clear blue sky above. It's a reminder to all of us of the unlimited horizons these graduates have as they all move on from the Academy.
"When I was asked to prepare a speech, I got to work. After all my years in the Air Force, I have plenty of material to draw experience from to share with you. And what resulted from so many hours of contemplation, of deciding which pearls of wisdom to bestow upon all of you, were two versions of the same speech. One is three-hours"—I hold up a folder in my left hand—"and one is twelve-minutes." I hold up a lone sheet of paper in my right hand. "I told my wife last night I'd decide when I got up here which one I would give, but as I see the looks I'm getting from the graduates, I think I'll go with the abbreviated version."
A wave of chuckles rumbles through the crowd.
"I first want to offer congratulations to all of you cadets and to your families—the ones who provided support to you as you pursued the great honor you're gaining today. The diploma you've earned is proof that you did it. Your education may have been paid for by your grateful fellow citizens, but it's not without a great responsibility on your part. And in exchange for that great responsibility, you are among the few who graduate in our country with no student debt, so congratulations again."
Applause echoes around me.
"But, graduates, your mission commences today. And part of that mission is to work every day to make the Air Force better. You cannot merely accept it for what it is now. You must strive to leave your mark while also respecting its legacy. You must remove any sense of complacency while leading by example. More than anything, it will be your example that most inspires and shapes our Air Force for the future.
"Today, we gain nearly 1,000 young lieutenants. You bring with you a renewed vitality needed for a strong Air Force, a vigor with which you are eager to defend what many have called a great, big experiment … what you and I call America. When I joined the Air Force, I was eighteen-years-old, optimistic and full of ambition. And the day I sat where you're sitting, listening to the inspiring speeches given, I never could have predicted I would be up here, standing before you, trying to wax poetic about anything you may find valuable. After all, back then I was a hot shot with more dreams in my head than I had time to live them. But even if I don't quite hit the mark today as far as eloquence goes, I can offer you this advice: Embrace and enjoy the beauty of the unexpected, because that's exactly what you're in for with the U.S. Air Force. It will be an adventure unlike any other and one many others will envy.
"Today you follow in the footsteps of Air Force Academy giants, men and women who have forged paths—made their marks—like so many of you will. Academy graduates have led our nation's charge into space, have earned our nation's highest decoration for valor, the Medal of Honor. We must remember, too, that because of the dedication of graduates of this school and your forbearers, America's air superiority stretches all the way back to World War II. To the war that defined your service's heroism. The war that proved that you could hold the line for your country. When, following Pearl Harbor, the Doolittle Raid proved that a stunned nation had airmen who would come back swinging, keeping alive the spirit of resistance as our nation mobilized.
"You're the same Air Force that flew against Ploiesti, the toughest possible opposition that could have been gathered against you. But it was also an Air Force that included the red tails of the Tuskegee Airmen, airmen who gave everything they had to protect the bombers who were striking deep into enemy territory.
"Your predecessors also proved their mettle over Korea, earning forty-one new aces in the fight over MiG Alley. They maintained the line over the skies of Vietnam along the Ho Chi Minh Trail while Jolly Green Giants went into harm's way to rescue those in their greatest time of need, downed behind enemy lines. They held the line during the nearly 70,000 sorties flown in support of Desert Shield and Desert Storm, and so many more sorties that are being flown today as we sit here, in the complex skies and missions over Iraq, Afghanistan, and Syria. Holding the line and leading the way for dozens of other nations to commit their forces to the fight we're in, all because of your ready, reliable stance overhead.
"Now, I don't share these stories about unflinching bravery to give you a history lesson. You've received plenty of those during your four years here at the academy. I share this as a reminder of the legacy now entrusted to you, the warrior ethos and the fierce character you now inherit as you own—as your own character will now have to stand. It will have to stand between us and some of the forces that would take away our democracy and our liberty. You are there to inspire, and you are there to assure yourselves that you will encounter nothing worse in the future than what previous graduates encountered and overcame. And thanks to our Air Force, decades of America's ground and naval forces that have operated with that certainty, the certainty that the sky overhead was held by you, watching over them like guardian angels.
"I have my own personal experience with guardian angels. When I found myself stranded behind enemy lines, my faith in my fellow airmen never wavered. Even when faced with injuries and being a stone's throw away from the enemy's crosshairs, I knew nothing would stand in the way of those men and women retrieving me from the desert in Iraq. Not once did I doubt the core values held by every officer who has taken the oath. That of integrity first, service before self, and excellence in all you do.
"Each of you are now responsible for ensuring American air superiority survives in a world of renewed competition, inspiring that same confidence in those you lead and in your comrades below, who are relying on you to unleash your ferocious capabilities in the finest tradition of the Doolittle Raiders.
"I may not know many of you personally, but I know your character, young airmen. Growing up as witnesses to the longest stretch of combat in our nation's history, every single one of you could have chosen a different college, a different profession, a different path. Those paths would have undoubtedly been far less demanding than what this academy has asked of you these past four years, or what our Air Force, our nation, and even our allies will ask of you in the years to come, as you defend freedom. Pledging your honor, just as those patriots did who signed our Declaration of Independence, an independence you will now defend with your lives. For at your young age, you chose to pursue a life of service, and for that, our nation gives you respect.
"It's respect you've earned by signing a blank check to the American people, payable with your lives. You now stand ready to hold the line to protect America's experiment in democracy with all the cunning, ferocity, and grit you have inside you. And as you step into your new roles, my expectation for you is quite simple: Always be ready to fight and to win. There's no room for complacency as our adversaries do everything in their power to erode our military's competitive edge.
"There's even less room for cynicism or victimhood. Your primary weapon system now is your attitude, coupled with the legacy of the Air Force that permitted you to join its ranks. As you train to become pilots, remote pilots, space officers, combat systems officers, missileers, intel officers, engineers, no matter the specialty that you pursue, in every domain and by your service as you fan out across our Air Force, we want you to bring rigor as well as vigor to our forces. You will be essential to ensuring our nation maintains its edge in the air, now and also in the future, fighting domains of outer space and cyberspace. As a nation, we must remain undistracted in the pursuit of military excellence, for America has no ordained right to victory on the battlefield. It is now your responsibility to ensure our adversaries know they should always prefer to talk to our Department of State, rather than face the U.S. Air Force."
"Anyone who wants to test our country's resolve must know the full threat and the weight of the words you proudly sing in the Air Force song, 'Give Her the Gun.' Doing so means unleashing the initiative and aggressiveness of those you will lead, keeping in mind that it's the airmen's boldness and unrelenting commitment that would derail our adversaries. As officers, you will have only to win one battle—the battle for your troops' and peers' respect, because once you win that battle through your example, your airmen will win all the others.
"More than six decades ago, then-Air Force Chief of Staff, General Nathan Twining stood in front of the first class of cadets on our academy's dedication day, delivering words of wisdom to those about to open their first chapter of their service. He said the eyes of the nation, and especially the eyes of the Air Force, would be on you. Everybody will be looking over your shoulder and they will be critical, for they have a right to expect great things."
Knowing where he's sitting, I find Jacob in the crowd and meet his gaze.
"Today, that expectation still holds. The American people, and especially our veterans, continue to expect great things from you. We need you now and tomorrow at the top of your game. We need you mentally sharp, we need you physically tough, and we need you spiritually strong. So, aim high, clear into the outer reaches of space. Fly, fight, and win, and as you have been good cadets, go and be good officers."
My gaze sweeps over the men and women dedicating their futures to the service of their country.
"Congratulations to you, God preserve you, and God bless America."
After receiving a commemorative plaque—one I'll proudly display for once—I take my seat and the dean of faculty takes the stage. Dozens of students are recognized for their exceptional achievements, twelve of which are given the highest distinction. Once those students have had their moment in the spotlight, the moment that Jacob and his fellow cadets have been waiting for arrives.
"It gives me great pleasure," the dean goes on to say, "to present to you the United Stated Air Force Academy class of 2019."
One by one, each cadet squadron is called, and each member is called to the stage to receive their diploma. It's my privilege to be there to shake the hand of every one of them. When Jacob's squadron—squadron 5, the Wolf Pack—is called and it's his turn to walk across the stage, I'm nearly brought to tears when he lifts his hand in a salute as I reach for his hand.
"Congratulations, son."
He swallows back his own emotions and stands tall before me. "Thank you, Babbo. For everything."
It takes nearly an hour and a half for all of the cadets to receive their diplomas, then we all once again stand as the commandant of cadets administers the oath of office.
She takes the podium with a smile. "Graduates of the Neil Armstrong, please raise your right hand, and after I read the oath of office, signify your acceptance by saying 'I do'. So do each of you, having been appointed a Second Lieutenant in the United States Air Force, do you solemnly swear that you will support and defend the constitution of the United States, against all enemies, foreign and domestic, that you will bear true faith in allegiance to the same, that you take this obligation freely without any mental reservation or purpose of evasion, and that you will well and faithfully discharge the duties of the office upon which you're about to enter, so help you God?"
Hearing the clear and resounding "I do" from the cadets, knowing my son is out there among them, makes my heart swell in my chest.
And after the band plays one more song—the Air Force song—the commandant has one more closing line everyone is waiting for.
"Graduates, it's been an absolute honor being your commandant this past year. Go forth and be leaders and warrior airman. Class of 2019, dismissed."
And with enthusiasm I remember all too well, every man and woman in the sea of blue, white, and gold tosses their white hat into the air as the Thunderbirds fly overhead. Cheers and tears are plentiful at Falcon Stadium as the new second lieutenants celebrate their achievements. Hugs are passed around, pictures are taken, butter bars are pinned on boards, all while I watch as a proud father.
"Your stepson is out there, isn't he?" the commandant asks me. "Jacob McCarty?"
"Yeah, he is."
"He's going places. You should be very proud of him. I don't doubt he'll do great things."
The pride on my face is undeniable. "He already has."
As a child, you believe in magic. You believe in tales of finding treasure in faraway lands and rescuing the princess for a happily ever after. You answer adults with a smile when they ask what you want to be when you grow up, and you absolutely believe it's possible to be a dragon-slayer and an astronaut. But then you find out that dragons aren't real and the faraway lands are a little lonely when you have to make new friends every time you move.
As an adult, you discover the wanderlust cultivated by listening to your father tell tales of clear skies and valor is too enticing, and you don't stay in one place for too long. But then that wanderlust is stifled by loneliness. You surround yourself with people, even going so far as to marry a woman you think will quell the loneliness, but she isn't cut out for a life with no tether. And by the time you figure out you're not right for each other, the window to create the family you always wanted inches closed.
So, to fill that hole, you push yourself, you strive for excellence in every aspect of your career, hoping the fulfillment you find in it is enough. And in the years you spend building that life, you build friendships that sustain you.
You know one kind of love.
But sometimes, if you're lucky, when it feels like you're destined for an otherwise lonely life, devoid of the intimacy you crave, another soul catches your eye and crosses your path and you stop to ask if she believes in love at first sight.
In that person, you find the soul-warming, bone-deep love you'd missed out on the first time around. You find comfort, companionship, and passion. You find a partner who will stand by you and support you. One who is an equal in the life you're creating.
It's then that you hold on with both hands while they lift you up and carry you into a future you imagined all those years ago.
It's then that you realize you've found your soft place to land.
A/N: I honestly can't believe it's over. *sniff* I hope you all feel like I've given them the HEA they all needed. Well, maybe besides Garrett. I almost feel bad for him. I cannot wait to hear what your think about this epilogue. I hope it was everything you hoped it would be.
A note on the graduation ceremony and "Edward's" USAFA commencement speech. While I wish I was knowledgeable and eloquent about USAF history and the way these ceremonies go, I am not. I was lucky enough to stumble upon a YouTube video of an entire USAFA graduation ceremony and took massive notes. I also found a transcript of the commencement speech given by Secretary of Defense James Mattis in 2018, and I used a heavy portion of his words with some Edward sprinkled in. I wanted to capture the essence of the moment, and nothing I could have come up with would have honored the spirit of the moment. I wavered and questioned myself about using so much of Mattis' speech and asked for input from others about it, and they all told me to go with it. If this were a published book, obviously, the speech would be different, but I loved the sentiment behind Secretary Mattis' words and chose to use them.
At times I didn't think I'd ever get to hit complete on this, so it feels really good to wrap it up, despite being sad that it's over. I guess you could say I'm very conflicted. Lol. I want to start by thanking my readers. I know waiting around for a story to update, well … it sucks. A 19 month hiatus is a ridiculously long time. I cannot express enough thanks for sticking it out and hanging around to see it through. Your love for these characters kept me focused—when I had the time to write—even when RL was insanely busy.
To my girls on my prereader team, thank you. 2brown-eyes, BitterHarpy, Lizzie Paige, Maplestyle, and for the first arc of this story, aushapasha, your input made this story what it is, and I am so thankful for your help.
Jayhawkbb, your red pen got a little broader as we went along, but I love that you push me to dig deeper and that you challenge me to do the hard things. My words are always better when you work your magic on them. You are a gem, and I'm so blessed to have you on my team.
And finally, DrivingEdward. All I can say is that this one was for you. I had a basic, nuts and bolts idea for a story about a divorced mom finding happiness again, but without you, Pilotward never would have happened. Your endless, amazing stories from your time in the Air Force made this story what it is and authentic in a way I never would have been able to accomplish on my own. I also thank you for letting me borrow your husband for details google never would have been able to give me. I think I owe you a bottle of red and "The Colonel" a bottle of bourbon for my endless questions. So, from the bottom of my heart, I thank you.
How does a wrap-up video chat in on (tentatively) Sunday, October 27 in my Facebook group sound? Anyone who wants to discuss ASPtL and maybe upcoming stories, be sure to join my group for details.
That's all, folks! I have a couple new projects in various stages of development, as well as Throttle on the back burner for now, so I'm sure you'll hear from me soon. Remember, the best way to stay up to date with what I'm up to, join in the discussion, and to see exclusive teaser pics, check out my Facebook group, Sunshine Fics. I'd love if you all could join us. And for those who are having a hard time finding the group, I'm not sure what the issue could be. It should come up in a Facebook search, especially if you click on groups under the search function. If not, shoot me a PM and I'll see if I can work out what the issue is. FFN doesn't like outside links, but you could also try using this after removing the spaces. https: . com/groups/ 1739086053085361/?ref= share _group _link
I will "see" you soon!
Be kind.
Stay safe.
Stay well.
Lots of love
~Sunshine