No one prepares you for the grand finale, the last goodbye. Watching a loved one fade is devastating, to say the least. While I did my best to prepare myself for this, when the time came, I was completely unprepared. There’s unbearable grief, a void.He was no ordinary man, my father; he was our warrior hero. A soldier who set infinite bars in soldiering, leadership, strategy, and acumen — displaying grit and everyday resilience in navigating personal adversity.My father lost his right leg on the battlefield in 1965. He was only 24. What could have broken the spirit of any young man, Dad took it as a challenge. What a challenge it was!He stuck it out for 40 years as an Infantryman and retired as the Vice Chief. It wasn’t easy but with his sense of humour, perseverance and an uncommon zest for life, he did it. And brilliantly at that.He was a General who held no place in his life for political or religious bigotry, or jingoism. He called a spade a spade, unbothered by the consequences. For him, what mattered above all was that one had to be a good person — in head and heart.He did nothing for personal gain, and refused to surrender his values.He was the founder-president of the War Wounded Foundation and the founder-director of the Centre for Land Warfare Studies (CLAWS). He remained deeply committed to the welfare and dignity of India’s war-disabled soldiers, working tirelessly, day after day, including fighting for their rights in courts, reminding the nation to not falter in giving them their due and the dignity and respect they deserved.His legacy lives on through the people with whom he crossed paths. People who knew him speak of his military and strategic depth, his integrity and unwavering commitment to truth and loyalty to the Constitution, and the armed forces.Now, when cynicism and selfishness are fashionable, he leaves behind an enduring legacy of sacrifice, courage, compassion, and love for the country and his family.At times, life just sets things in motion — my moving back home to Panchkula in time instead of accompanying my husband on his last posting just when my parents’ health started to decline. My father’s cancer returned with a vengeance and each day I saw him fight it with all that he had… smiling fiercely and defiantly. But, in the end, he was tired and in pain and told me that it was time for him to go.He slipped away gently like a brave soldier, with his loved ones surrounding him after a hard-fought battle. And yet, I was not ready. How can one be for the hardest goodbye?Here’s a final salute to an exceptional husband, father, grandfather, brother, friend, foe, relative and a legendary soldier! Some warriors live forevermore.