05/21/2026
On the cusp of Father’s Day, each year I’m simultaneously faced with the anniversary of my Father’s death. Quite a paradox to embrace year after year, yet it’s chapters like this that expose the recesses of a daughter’s pure lens.
“The Beauty of Flight” interweaves the delicate nature of grief with foundational threads that weave a stunning tapestry. Before I truly knew my father, I was a child wishing he could be the caretaker I needed him to be.
Both of us fell short.
The nest that sheltered me from harsh conditions also conditioned me to become harsh in subconscious patterns that would take me decades to recognize fully.
The underlying thread revealed imperfections, sewn by the hands of my parents who stitched tirelessly with remnants from their own childhood… the stitch work was misleading and impaired, through no fault of their own… that’s what humanness is comprised of.
Yet God.
“For you created my inmost being; you knit me together in my mother’s womb.” - Psalm 139:13
His thread, weaving us together, is perfect in nature despite the carelessness chaos man inevitably sews.
He knows us.
Even when a parent is too entangled in chords from their own past to see us fully, God provides a presence that frees us from ancestral binding. It leads us to see past pretenses into a space where only God can reside.
Love. Loss. and Light.
Before threads can be detangled, they must be recognized with childlike sight. 🙏🏼
Order “The Beauty of Flight” at the link in my bio. Or if you are already reading, share in the comments what part of chapter 4 cut you loose from the trappings of parental chords.
