Heroes & sacrifice

What it is to be a father? The moment the Lord blesses you with a little one you become a champion, someone's special hero. Yes, your world changes, it is your duty to make sure your offspring have food on the table, clothes to wear, a roof over their head, all the physical things they will need to grow, but you are their hero. My children have become a foundation, a rock, and my wife, Denise, and I have built our home upon that rock.

As a hero you must also guide and direct, encourage and discipline. At times you will experience great joy but also deep disappointments. This is the road of a champion. My wife and I are blessed with three children — Dalton, Jessie and Sydney. Just like every father, I have lived a second childhood through my kids — watching them score the most points in a game, getting straight A's in school and performing at church with other kids.

Now, they become your heroes. They are not my heroes because of grades, runs or performances but because of their individual sacrifices. I was deployed to Iraq in 2005. Sydney was 4 months old, Jessie was 4, and Dalton, the new man of the house, was 7. They went without their champion for 15 months so I could go help those in need. My children would not get a father's shoulder to cry on, my hug of comfort, a bedtime story or daddy's kiss goodnight. My children sacrificed, as do all the wives and children of those deployed, so I could defend that which America stands for, the oppression from tyranny and defense of freedom.

Every day I thought of those three wonderful faces and would try to remember their smiles and would be reminded of their sacrifice. Now that is true pride, when you watch your children put others before themselves, a trait they display today and I pray continues throughout their lives. We have become a society of what's in it for me, but not my kids, not my heroes. Unlike many families, when I came home, we did not experience transitional problems, a fate that befalls many, another little known sacrifice paid by military families. My children ran to be beside their champion, no apprehension, confusion or fear, just joy. This was a gift from heaven.

I am home now and my schedule is filled with running from ball games to performances. My children now have their special hero home. They now get the bedtime stories and the hugs and kisses they missed. On Feb. 6 of this year my family tragically lost a close friend, Bradley Skelton, to a roadside bomb in Iraq. His death deeply affected my family, but my champions never faltered. They knew why he went, so a father, like me, could be home with his family.

Yes, my children know sacrifice; they don't run from it but respect its cost. A father is also the spiritual leader, and I enjoy hearing my children praying for our family, friends, this country, those suffering and for those patriots still on battlegrounds today. And for Brad, they give thanks and ask the Lord to be with him.

I may never stand in a stadium filled with thousands chanting my name, and I most likely will not be on the cover of Time Magazine's Man of the Year edition or throw a Super Bowl-winning touchdown, and that's OK. Instead I get more, I get to feel like a hero, a champion, every time I hear the excited call of my children yelling "Daddy's home!"

— Ross Gartman