Dear Ned,
I wish I could see you.
I wish I could grow wings to fly up into blue skies, the soft white billowing clouds protecting me from the sun’s heat. The view of the Earth, the granite steep, the rocks, river, redwoods and lake become tiny splashes of color as I ascend to meet with you.
I wish I could fly to you and be with you for just one day and then more.
I wish I could find you in my dreams to say that it is going to be ok.
Where you are there is a brotherly love that has no conditions, no rainchecks, no venturi effect.
I wish I could turn back the hands of time to that day. Perhaps your brow was furrowed in distraction, thinking of your life, your challenges and unknowns, last night’s conversations with your sisters, forgotten birthdays, the death of another brother, the need to call your parents, the coming weekend when you would be with your family, your little boy, your beautiful wife. I wish I could have given you the presence you needed. And how could I have?
I wish I could slowed the wind that whipped through the canyon that afternoon, the air flew through the narrow rock space speeding it up and dropping the pressure making the little plane struggle to gain momentum. And yet that would have been impossible for me to be there!
I wish I could have been there to slow your attention to check the instruments,
to correct the error of that split second when you were caught off guard. But how could I have been there?
You were caught in the awe of the Sierra Nevadas, into the wild at Cherry Lake. Over your head with the beauty of the forest.
The summer before last, we traveled there to see what you saw and to be there with your spirit.
A brave pilot. A father, son, husband and brother, a man fully alive in this world.
You are always with me,
Your middle sister
Your middle sister
