Coming home

 

My dad died 16 years ago today. Yesterday, as you know, Gabe earned his pilot's license. In the same town my dad was born in, the same town he died in.

We don't live in Brookfield. It just happened to be the closest airport Gabe could take his checkride. I like to think Dad had a little something to do with that.

I've had this dog tag since my dad died. He wore it all through his years in the Marine Corps and as a pilot. Then carried it on his keychain for 30 years afterward. When I gave it to Gabe yesterday as a congrats, I told him I'm pretty sure Grandpa would want him to have it.

In some ways, it's finally come home.