About a year ago my mom applied for a spot on the Honor Flight in our area for my Grandpa. Major Arvid Shook was a pilot in both World War II and the Korean War. He flew The Hump, which is a path that went through the Himalayan mountains (not over them since their technology and equipment were unable to do that) between China, India and Burma delivering supplies. There was no radar equipment to warn them of oncoming air traffic, much less enemy fire. It was a dangerous route under awesome circumstances and Grandpa would later be a recipient of the Distinguished Flying Cross medal, which is given to those pilots who log more than 1000 hours of combat flight time. To our family, our Grandpa is kind of a big deal. To my mom, he was a hero and she was always looking for ways to remind him.
The Honor Flight program is a volunteer-based organization that coordinates a trip for WWII veterans from their hometown to Washington, D.C. for a day spent touring the monuments that our country has erected in their honor. It comes at no cost to the veteran. They are hailed as heroes from the time they arrive for their departure, as they stroll through the city and upon their return home late in the evening. They are given the recognition and thanks that they deserve for the courage and bravery of their choice so many years ago to help keep our country safe and free.
Mom died before we would find out that Grandpa had been given a spot on an Honor Flight in March of this year. She had been so excited over the possibility of him being accepted and would have been over the moon to know that he had actually been chosen to go. Since each veteran has a guardian take the flight and spend the day with them, we chose Dad to be with Grandpa that day. My Dad has known and admired my Grandpa for almost 50 years. My Dad might be the most patriotic man on earth at this moment. My Dad understood better than anyone how much this honor meant to my Mom.
As Dad, Lisa, Ron and I talked about their upcoming trip I began to realize just how special it was in itself, much less to our family in light of how things have changed for us in recent months. I began to consider whether or not I should be there to send them off and then welcome them back in again later that night. Going away for a weekend is no small feat for me, not to mention the fact that a plane ticket to Florida wasn't exactly in the budget at that moment. The weekend before the flight I was still trying to decide what to do when I prayed specifically that God would give me very clear direction as to whether I should go or not. I soon realized that while I would never regret having been there, I would easily and likely regret not being there. Then at our evening worship service that Sunday night the topic of the sermon was the fifth commandment, which calls us to honor our father and mother. Our pastor talked about how this commandment is applied and how it extends beyond just our immediate and actual father and mother and applies also to our grandparents, our older relatives and the elders in our church and community as well. Those who honor their elders create a culture of blessing. I got that message loud and clear and was humbled by such a direct answer to my prayer for clarity. I went home that evening to purchase a plane ticket for the following Friday. I had done my research and was expecting to pay a lot of money. What I wasn't expecting was that once I sat down to purchase the ticket I would find one considerably less expensive than any that I'd found in recent days and that the amount of the ticket would be exactly $3 less than the camera lens I had just sold on Craigslist.
I am so thankful for that weekend. The privilege of being there to honor my Grandpa with my family and in memory of my mom is one that I will treasure. I loved being with dad the day after their trip and hearing him tell about the hundreds of people who cheered for the veterans as they arrived in Baltimore and the families who stopped Grandpa in D.C. and asked to have their picture taken with a Hero and how Grandpa wanted to tell the Soldier who stood guard at The Tomb of the Unknown Soldier that he was doing a good job but decided to give him a thumbs-up instead so that he didn't disturb the silence. I love that it took dad all day to tell those stories because he would have to stop and compose himself each time. I love knowing how much it would have meant to mom to know that we were all there for Grandpa. I especially love that details and events such as these matter to my God and that He is willing to be involved in these tiny moments.
And though I'm not a national hero, I got a pretty hardy welcome home myself. It's sweet to be missed!
The Honor Flight program is a volunteer-based organization that coordinates a trip for WWII veterans from their hometown to Washington, D.C. for a day spent touring the monuments that our country has erected in their honor. It comes at no cost to the veteran. They are hailed as heroes from the time they arrive for their departure, as they stroll through the city and upon their return home late in the evening. They are given the recognition and thanks that they deserve for the courage and bravery of their choice so many years ago to help keep our country safe and free.
Mom died before we would find out that Grandpa had been given a spot on an Honor Flight in March of this year. She had been so excited over the possibility of him being accepted and would have been over the moon to know that he had actually been chosen to go. Since each veteran has a guardian take the flight and spend the day with them, we chose Dad to be with Grandpa that day. My Dad has known and admired my Grandpa for almost 50 years. My Dad might be the most patriotic man on earth at this moment. My Dad understood better than anyone how much this honor meant to my Mom.
As Dad, Lisa, Ron and I talked about their upcoming trip I began to realize just how special it was in itself, much less to our family in light of how things have changed for us in recent months. I began to consider whether or not I should be there to send them off and then welcome them back in again later that night. Going away for a weekend is no small feat for me, not to mention the fact that a plane ticket to Florida wasn't exactly in the budget at that moment. The weekend before the flight I was still trying to decide what to do when I prayed specifically that God would give me very clear direction as to whether I should go or not. I soon realized that while I would never regret having been there, I would easily and likely regret not being there. Then at our evening worship service that Sunday night the topic of the sermon was the fifth commandment, which calls us to honor our father and mother. Our pastor talked about how this commandment is applied and how it extends beyond just our immediate and actual father and mother and applies also to our grandparents, our older relatives and the elders in our church and community as well. Those who honor their elders create a culture of blessing. I got that message loud and clear and was humbled by such a direct answer to my prayer for clarity. I went home that evening to purchase a plane ticket for the following Friday. I had done my research and was expecting to pay a lot of money. What I wasn't expecting was that once I sat down to purchase the ticket I would find one considerably less expensive than any that I'd found in recent days and that the amount of the ticket would be exactly $3 less than the camera lens I had just sold on Craigslist.
I am so thankful for that weekend. The privilege of being there to honor my Grandpa with my family and in memory of my mom is one that I will treasure. I loved being with dad the day after their trip and hearing him tell about the hundreds of people who cheered for the veterans as they arrived in Baltimore and the families who stopped Grandpa in D.C. and asked to have their picture taken with a Hero and how Grandpa wanted to tell the Soldier who stood guard at The Tomb of the Unknown Soldier that he was doing a good job but decided to give him a thumbs-up instead so that he didn't disturb the silence. I love that it took dad all day to tell those stories because he would have to stop and compose himself each time. I love knowing how much it would have meant to mom to know that we were all there for Grandpa. I especially love that details and events such as these matter to my God and that He is willing to be involved in these tiny moments.
The Send-off, Saturday at 3:30am
The Homecoming, Saturday at 11:30pm
And though I'm not a national hero, I got a pretty hardy welcome home myself. It's sweet to be missed!