My Airport Angel

I was downstairs cleaning my man-space, my man-cave, my little boys room, my haven, my den. Call it whatever you want.

All sorts of things in the room brought back good memories. Vacations, friendships, good reads, good movies, pieces of art. This birdhouse brought back both good and bad memories.

It was March 22, 2008...exactly 3 weeks after I retired. I got a phone call from my sister just after midnight. (I was in Florida.)

"Tim...Mom is gone."

"What do you mean...she's gone?"

"She died...Tim. She passed away."

Then...silence. It was like a big chunk of you was suddenly missing, and there would be no more sleep on this night.

Hours later...I'm in the Tampa airport...getting ready to fly home to Michigan. I'm all alone...lost in my thoughts...trying not to...but probably crying.

A friendly face sits down next to me. "Are you OK?" she asks.

"My Mom died this morning, and I'm flying home to Michigan."

"I'm so sorry."

We talked for 2 hours. About parents...about Michigan...about family...about life. Come to find out...in one horrible year...she lost both parents, and her husband. Awful...just awful. But...she knew just what I was feeling.

She really helped me at a most difficult time. More than she'll ever know. That's why I call her my Airport angel. Sent by God...that's what I think.

She liked to fish and hunt, so I made her this birdhouse...hoping to eventually deliver it to her. She lives up by some of my wife's cousins.

Before I could do that, she remarried, and moved to Texas. I'm hoping to still perhaps the change the name on the front of the house, and send it to her.

I chose the blue sky/cloudy background...because that's where I look when I think of my Mom. Upward. Heavenward. To the skies. That's where she is.