We’re meant to be in the air right now, flying to a place called Hazard. Sounds dangerous, doesn’t it? And it could be, too. When you’re a flat-lander, particularly from Ohio, you can get a little lazy. There are airports everywhere in Ohio, and lots of flat green spaces that could serve as a runway in a real pinch. Far southeastern Kentucky is a whole different place, almost a different time really. It is where my mom comes from, and where she and my father lay at their rest. It is a beautiful land full of hard rock and sharp edges, a foreboding land from above. It’s a place mom simply called ‘down-home’.

Every fall the family has a reunion/memorial on a simple mountainside. It’s a hard place to get to by car, taking over 5 hours, but it was to be an easy 50 minute flight. I very much wanted to be there today. I wanted to show off my achievement (the airplane) to the family, and explain why Elizabeth and I ran off and eloped. I wanted to lay flowers on my parents headstone and thank them again for the values they gave me, and for the many lessons they taught. I’ve said it before, but I owe so much to them. They both taught me, in their own ways, that the only thing that could keep me from doing something was me. I lost my mom very young, and we lost dad shortly before we got our kit. But he was excited about it, and very much wanted to see it through. I want to fly my plane between that mountain top and heaven and pray that they know that life is good, and that I’m happy. I believe they know anyway, but it is something I’m called to do.

But this morning broke with low ceilings and mist, and it would not move. We will fly to Hazard another day, and I’ll remember my family from here. I miss and love you guys.