I've never met my father. My mom always told me he was a pilot of a fighter jet that had gone down in the war; though, she never really specified which war that was.
She told me he was a very tall man, with sandy blonde hair, and a smile that could light up any room. She said he was the most kind man she had ever known and that he could always make her laugh. He had always been a pilot and was excited to be deployed on new missions each time he was called into service.
He would write to her whenever he was overseas, but she someone lost the letters in her move to the house I grew up in. He was deployed again right around the time I was due.
I guess, a few months after I was born, there was a knock at my mom's apartment door (hadn't moved to our house yet) and she was notified that he had been killed in combat.