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January 28, 2006


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How poetic! Michele sent me, I've been here before though. I'm curious as to what you do, pilot? Work for Rockwell?


You do such a wonderful job of turning what most people consider a mundane activity into a time for introspection.

And here I thought I was the only one who used flight as a crucible for writing.



the only think i manage to capture while flyin g is a rhinovirus and a sore back. at least the pre-schooler didn't puke all over me and the plane this time.


wow, amazing post! The part about night time crossings in an airplane was so descriptive that I really re-lived it. Here from Michele's!


I tend to be claustrophobic on airplanes, so it's not such an enjoyable experience for me. I envy you! (Michele sent me)


beautiful writing. the imagery is powerful. thank you for sharing. i'm now looking forward to my next flight.
i'm here via michele's.


Fantastic! You made me feel like I was riding the plane with you.

Hi, I'm visiting from Michele!

Canadian Dude

Found this via Michele's.... amazing content... I can't read it all now... I must return.



“I didn't know my mother had passed away, but then again, I knew. I knew all too well, especially after waking up from a light sleep, present to a deep, deep peace. I later learned that was right around the time she slipped away.”

Sounds very familiar to my experience.

My grandfather, my last grandparent and my favorite at that, was ill for many months before my daughter was born. The last I saw of him was Father’s Day. I called every other day to check on him. I wasn’t allowed out of the house as a result of the bed rest and complications. We all knew he would be gone before the end of summer. Even he knew it.

I was in labor with my daughter. Everyone had left the room. I was lying on my side in pain, waiting for the anesthesiologist to “up” the medication. With every contract I would curl up and moan, waiting for it to pass. The next contraction came and someone grabbed my foot. I had my eyes closed, focusing on the support to help me through the contraction. I opened my eyes to see who it was and no one was there. I leaned up and looked around the room. My door was still shut. No one was there.

The next contraction came. I curled up and moaned and there was that warm hand helping me through again. I was so thankful to not be alone. The moment the contraction passed I looked up and no one was there. A calm washed over me as I knew my grandfather had gone. This was around 8:30am.

My beautiful Alexi was born later in the afternoon. No one had confirmed his death to me until 4pm that evening. Yet I already knew.

I have good days and bad days. I wonder if it was God’s plan. I wonder if Grandpa had something to do with the timing of it all. But I do know this: his funeral was wonderful. Family came in from out-of-town to grieve for Grandpa and celebrate the life of this blessed baby girl. Some think that Grandpa wanted it that way. He wasn’t one to want a big fuss over things. This was his first great-grandchild. I wasn’t at the funeral, but I’m told that pictures of the baby were posted in the chapel and there were many hugs and tears of joy and sorrow. His casket was adorned with a spray of flowers that read “Great-Grandfather”. It didn’t matter that it happened hours apart. It was the same day. Family joked that they hi-five’d each other in and out of heaven. I believe that. When Alexi and I returned home she was given the cross that was in his casket. The entire family, even the sides that were quarreling (it was viscious between them) agreed that this miracle babe should have the cross. It hangs in her room above her door.

I read your post and it made me sad but warmed my heart at the same time. I know what it’s like.

God bless you and God bless your mother too.

(If you’d like to respond, you can email me (tess has my email) or stop by and visit my blog)

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