Our Mistakes are Divine

Thank God Jesus is the chief creative director He knows exactly how to make a blooper look part of the whole thing! Paul says in Ephesians 1v3-5 that salvation through Christ was God’s plan before…

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Walking Dad Home

Two people in silhouette walking toward sunset, one is using cane in left hand and slightly leaning on the other person
photo credit: Andrey Popov/Shutterstock.com

He whiled away part of the day in the window. Frequent squeaks of the window sliding open were heard with shouts of greetings, goodbyes, and well-wishes to passers-by going about their day. He always smiled with that gleam in his eyes and dimples dotting his cheeks, ever the southern-raised gentleman, humble and meek.

My father enjoyed every bit of retirement these past 11 years after working 35 years in the airline industry for a major carrier. We joked that maybe he had a second family and sleeping quarters there because he worked many hours away from the family even during holidays. He was making sure so many enjoyed their travel experience as if it were his personal mission.

He started as part of the ramp crew in the mid ‘70’s and later moved on to a supervisory role. This area is tasked with ensuring luggage and other large items get nestled in the belly of the aircraft while the owners sit snug in their seats. Dad typically never turned down an overtime request to help out during busy shifts and hectic holiday travel times, always happy to assist.

I remember as a young child and teen wanting to spend more time with him and growing resentful that he worked such long hours. Why couldn’t he just say “no” to working so much and stay home and hang out with us? I dreaded those calls from his job.

It wasn’t until many years later that I began to understand more of the makeup that composed my father who grew up with extended family due to being separated from his mother, my grandmother. Born in Greenwood, Mississippi in the ‘40’s, dad was very young when “Grandmama” left him in her aunt’s care to look for work. Months later, she returned to retrieve her child and for reasons not entirely clear was unable to do so and he remained in his great aunt’s care. Although physically well-cared for he grew up feeling abandoned and from his account some disciplinary practices led him to become claustrophobic.

In the Jim Crow-era south, he began working at age 7 delivering newspapers before school and even caught cockroaches to sell to local fishermen for quarters. He loved school, participated in drama clubs and talent shows, played football and softball. He was nicknamed “The Vault” in high school when he played pitcher for his ability to “lock in” a pitch. After graduation he had a short stint in the…

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