Complete the short story / flash fiction, that has the following first paragraph:
I had always considered myself a strong man, able to keep my emotions in check. I didn’t cry when old Yeller got shot. I didn’t cry when the Patriots lost. Again. I didn’t cry when I came back from Iraq with fewer body parts than when I left. But when I escorted my baby down the aisle, both of us walking, I started crying. It was slow. It was solemn and it ripped a whole in whatever facade I used to keep those tears in and I bawled like a baby. I was so proud of her.
Post a link to the story in the comments.