Father of the Man by Dr. Peter L Colman

And then, the verse, which I always read and whispered in prayer during takeoff:

For he will command his angels concerning you to guard you in all your ways; they will lift you up in their hands…

I remember taking particular consolation that night in the small, surprising detail that angels were described as having hands!

***
As we climbed into the soft sable sky, veering east-northeast across the Great Lakes toward New England, a brilliant, yet subdued chorus of lights from the breathless Chicago skyline seemed to raise its collective voice to wish me strength and a safe return.

Moments later (or so it seemed), we were beginning our quiet, unceremonious descent to Manchester’s revital-ized airport facility. Given the legendary congestion in and around Logan, it was rumored that people who lived and worked in Boston now preferred to fly to Manchester and drive south…just to save time and trouble. But Manchester ‘natives,’ among whom I was one of its least conspicuous and uncelebrated sons, remember when old Grenier Field was a lackluster military base with a hodgepodge of scattered barracks hidden among it ubiquitous pines. No one knew that better than my Uncle, Jim Rogers – a man who, for the past fifty years, had been closer to me than my own father, the father whose unexpected demise had occasioned the present visit.




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