A synopsis of a book I am writing

When I was a little girl, around 7 or 8 years old, my mom told me that I was destined for great things. She swore she could feel it in her bones every time she looked at me. We were driving down a dirt road in Flint, Michigan from my moms 9 to 5 as a hair dresser to my grandmas yellow one story with the prettiest gardens on the whole street. My mom cut hair because she was sure it gave her some type of purpose, other than being a temporary single mother to two little girls who didn't know much of the world. When my dad left to discover what he thought was his purpose

My dad was first deployed the summer before I turned 7; truly a great and talented man. He was a war hero apparently; I didn't really know that until I was in my late teens, but as a 7 or 8 year old he was just gone away for a little while.  when teachers would ask us who our hero was, my answer was always my dad. My reasoning as a kid was humorous to say the least. "He fights all the bad guys so everyone can be safe." I mean I wasn't really wrong. My dad is Joe Slemon, a Druze immigrant from Israel who spoke several languages, could calculate the most complex mathematic equations in his head in just moments, a charmer to anyone he spoke to, and a talented soccer player who was featured in the town's newspaper countless times. He was a dream to most people that met him. I would wake up every morning at 5 am with him and we would eat chocolate pudding cups while playing some combat fighting game on an old Xbox. 

My dad died when I was 11.