March 23, 2009
Today I’m sharing another’s words because coincidentally the Irish Times has a piece by Bonnie Gangelhoff, daughter of the Gangelhoffs I mentioned yesterday.
THEIR FACES fade. Their voices dim to a whisper. But sometimes I see my mom and dad, their smiles flash as they wave to me one last time from the window of their doomed plane.
Sometimes, I think about my mom and how she didn’t know how to swim and she didn’t like to fly. And I think what a sad, melancholy irony that she died when a plane she was on crashed into the Irish Sea.
THEIR FACES fade. Their voices dim to a whisper. But sometimes I see my mom and dad, their smiles flash as they wave to me one last time from the window of their doomed plane.
Sometimes, I think about my mom and how she didn’t know how to swim and she didn’t like to fly. And I think what a sad, melancholy irony that she died when a plane she was on crashed into the Irish Sea.
