Duty. Honor. Country.

Every year on Memorial Day, my father sends me a link to the speech Gen. Douglas MacArthur famously gave to cadets at the U.S. Military Academy at West Point.

"Duty, Honor, Country," MacArthur says. "Those three hallowed words reverently dictate what you want to be, what you can be, what you will be."

I read the speech every year because I know it's important to my father, know that it profoundly moves and inspires him. But I confess that I never read it quite as closely as I did this year. Maybe it's more apt to say, I read it with a different perspective. 

On Sunday, I rode with my father in Rolling Thunder and fought back tears as we passed thousands of well-wishers who stood for hours in the hot afternoon sun to tell my father, a veteran of the U.S. Army and Air Force, and other men and women who served in the U.S. military—past and present—one thing: "Thank you."

Wounded warriors in wheelchairs saluted. Young and old waved American flags or held hand-drawn signs. People whooped and hollered, threw out their hands to touch the bikers, or gave a thumbs-up. As the procession passed, I watched one older man rise shakily from his chair to stand at attention.  

I expected the event to be pretty badass: a motley collection of black-leather-clad bikers and burly military types; thunderous engines; tricked-out bikes and testosterone. 

It was all of that, absolutely. Bikers gunned their engines in deafening roars when they passed beneath overpasses or got the sign from spectators eager for noise. And there was no shortage of leather: chaps, vests, jackets, pants, boots, hair accessories.

But I didn't expect the breathtaking emotion. I didn't for a second think I'd want to weep. And yet, by the time we crossed Memorial Bridge, rounded the Lincoln Memorial and headed down Constitution Avenue that's precisely what I wanted to do. As one person after another mouthed the words "Thank you" to my father, I realized these strangers were doing what I never had: thanked my father for his service to the country and for his shared role in keeping us safe.

It's a staggering realization.

My father has always been my hero but for reasons altogether unrelated to his military service. I've never shied from telling him I love and admire him, never been stingy with my gratitude. But for his training, his work and sacrifice, his leadership? 

This Memorial Day, I'd like to say "Thank you" to all the men and women who risk their lives every day to protect our country and its freedoms (I'm talkin' to you, Dan!) and those who served in years past. 

I'd also like to finally thank my father for his unwavering commitment to duty, honor, country. Thank you, Dad.