On May 14, 1992, we lost our son. He was twenty nine years old, a career US Army officer, and a fine, compassionate human being who cared for his soldiers, his family, and his world. Gary, I wonder every day what you might have accomplished over these past twenty-three years. This is an occasion when anything I say would come off sounding like a tired, worn-out cliché so I’ll keep it to just this: You are loved and missed more than any words could express.
Time does not heal all wounds; it just forms a scab over them which can break open at any time, and often does.