"What about practice?" Traci asked. She and Tami were sitting at the dining room table getting a head start on their school reading.I stood and buffed...my fingernails on my shirt then blew on them. "I don't need practice."Tami, her head still tilted back, reached up, grabbed the collar of my t-shirt, and pulled me down until our eyes were inches apart. "Why?" 'Cause practice is for football players. I'm retired." WHAT?" from three different voices.I grinned, kissed Tami, and stood again. "Ask me. His future and theirs both destroyed by some ignorant suicide bomber who thought he'd go to heaven for killing women and c***dren and a poor, innocent American boy.All of us mourned, mourned more deeply this young mans loss than I think any of us would have expected. It's so much different when the boy coming home in a box d****d in our flag is someone you know, someone who could and would have contributed to a better world...I felt a guilt about Allie and I, knew she did too...but also finally. More

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