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I'm just gonna write this down and be grateful for undeserved good health, a gorgeous wife, and a bunch of healthy kids

Perhaps I too am in a musing mood, and am one of those people who - should you ever hear complaining about my lot in life - should be smacked upside the head and reminded to count one's blessings.

Health, wife, and child, as you say.

But today I got to do something else. Yesterday, I traveled to Canton, OH, with my Dad. He's probably the most generous person I know, never says an unkind word about anyone, and is the model of what a 'Christian' should be - even to those of us who are not on that path.

It's a seven hour drive to Canton from where I live; eight with the eager border guards. But it was a chance to muse about the world with my Dad. He's an accountant who, 20 years ago said, "To heck with all this." and switched careers to specialize in sales, marketing and restaurant/kiosk placement and set-up. Naturally, I took him to a Buffalo Wild Wings for dinner (hey - consider it HG research).

Through it all, he had no idea why we were in Canton. He thought we were going to the Foolball Hall of Fame. (I told him we were going to protest Warren Moon being inducted, yet unacknowledged as getting his professional start in Canada and winning 5 Grey Cups).

What we were really doing was this.

My Dad has been a warbird buff since well before I came along. Every family trip, if Dad got wind of an air museum within two hours off the beaten track, guess where we were going. The Air Force Museum in Dayton, OH has been a past favourite destination for us.

Today, I got to take my Dad up in a B-17 bomber for a flight around Canton, OH, with clear blue skies. And today I saw something that I don't believe I've seen even when he was presented with his heretofore only grandchild.

My Dad's health isn't the greatest (although as I say that, he'll probably outlive the lot of us). He'll be 63 in October, is a Type II diabetic, and has heart problems that have landed him in the hospital on a number of occasions. And, as in the good doctor's tale, he has had a far harder life than I. He buried his brother at 20 years of age. His other brother was a Down's Syndrome child, not long for this world. My sister died on his 30th birthday. But today, I got to see him giggling like a five-year old boy, when he realized where we were, when he realized that those weren't just static display aircraft - but that they flew! And standing (crouched) in the nose of the aircraft, flying into the clear blue sky, he just kept repeating, "I never thought I'd actually get to fly in one of these."

An image and memory that I will keep for the rest of my life.


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When Life Gives You Lemons
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