These Days… my angels in the sky are visible…

It seems my life has become sort of this song… I have this background music sometimes in my life. Always been this way as long as I can remember. I remember the day my Daddy Jim passed away when I was just a little girl. I was standing out in the yard at Hungry Hill (Mamaw’s house on Wisteria Street in Gulfport) crying and thinkin’. The song “Somewhere Over the Rainbow” played in my head as I looked far into the sky looking for a plane that would not be there because he was killed in that plane. In those days, all military planes could have my Daddy Jim in them. I was to have started the first grade in Indiana that year. It was summer, July. We were stationed at Bunker Hill A.F.B., but, since Momma was pregnant with her fourth child, Daddy Jim had left us in Gulfport with Mamaw so she could help with Momma and us kids. He had to go on alert or maneuvers, whatever they called it. But, when his B-58 killed him, we had received the news down there in Gulfport. The men from the Air Force showed up at Hungry Hill in their dress uniforms all formal. The chaplain was there. The grown ups around me had fallen apart, hands over their faces, tears in their eyes. Momma got sick and took to the bed in the front bedroom. It was hot, as Mississippi summers can be in July.

I went outside to get away, to be by myself. Someone else, a kid, was with me, but, I never remember who it was. My sister? We stood and looked in the sky because I knew if Daddy Jim was dead or alive, he was going to be up there in the sky one way or another. I see a rainbow in the sky in this memory. Was that real or imagined? These days I tend to question if I wanted to see a rainbow, so I did. I was so very close to my Daddy Jim, being quite a bit older than my siblings he had spent so much time with me while Momma tended to my siblings. And now, the main person I had loved and bonded with so much after he adopted me as his child when he married my momma, before the other kids came along… he was gone??? He was my hero, my Daddy Jim.

So, these days, I have been outside a lot gardening, walking two miles a day for my health – I have lost 70 pounds over the past year or so – but, anyhow, these military planes are frequently in the sky as I go about my life. There have always been, but, for many, many years I chose to tune them out, try to ignore them, at times even hated them for the presence in my life when I just wanted to put that whole thing in the past. Yes, I went through a phase in my life when I even could not stand the thought of the military at the same time I was probably one of the most patriotic, do-the-right-thing kinda gal supporting our military because my Daddy Jim had given his life for it. This conflict, this annoyance, this necessary denial to be able to go on with life and try to forget my Daddy Jim because it always still hurt to have lost him. A daughter never outgrows the need for her father in her life. Never. Even after they grow up, and their daddy is long gone, there are times in life you still need that big hug and snuggle. The pain never lessons or goes away. 

I think, in my case, because I never had the support or help to overcome that loss, it has crystallized into that long ago memory for me of standing in the yard alone, self soothing with the music in my head, the soft Southern breezes on my face as the tears rolled non-stop down my face and I am stuck there. I don’t know how to go on. This affects how I deal with all the losses in my life. I have gone on, covered up and buried the losses because I did not have the time or support I needed to heal. I just went on, kept dealing with life, family, work, whatever to forget the bad stuff and go forward. But, each time there is a loss, it just piles up onto the rest of the the tragedies in my life. Now, at this late stage in life I find myself putzing in the garden or out walking in the woods and the thoughts filter through the books I have chosen to listen through on my cell phone and the thoughts pop up. I like to read biographies, memoirs. Last week I was listening to one of Oprah’s audiobooks and the week before I had listened to Senator John Lewis’ book. Those books started me really opening up this box I’d stored away in my heart and mind. This time in my life, I believe, will be what my life has brought me to examine. That little box of hurt and treasures. Good and bad, but, a box of healing. I am getting old now. And there is time for this venture. And I am embracing it.

So, these damn military planes are on their maneuvers these days flying over and around my house here in Western Wisconsin. Like pesky flies they blast their mach noises into my heart. I don’t want them there at first. Then, one day, I look up and kind of had a flash back of sorts. I picked up my right arm and saluted that military plane as it flew so low over my yard and home. I started crying as I lifted that arm and held my hand up to my brow, not to keep the sun from my eyes, but, this time, I realize I am saluting that military plane almost feeling my Daddy Jim’s hand over mine, shaping my hand into that salute he taught me to do when I was little. I felt it, it was him, standing behind me, holding my hand into that salute position. And it was the most wonderful feeling! He was there with me and we were watching the planes just as we had at Bunker Hill Air Force Base in Indiana the year before he died.

A healing began that day, the planes passing over my home here in Hixton, Wisconsin. I am so grateful to those planes passing over my house so low this summer of all summers. I hear the sounds and I know where to look in the sky because of the mach phenomena – they are always seen before the sound, not after. I salute them, this little girl inside of me salutes them and this is my way of overcoming so much of that pain of loss even all these years later – 60 years later the healing has begun. 

I ordered myself a t-shirt online that says “Military Brat” and one that has “Keesler Air Force Base” for the time I spent there as a military brat at day camp and at the medical facilities, the commissary, the Officer’s Club holiday meals, the life and times I continued even after Daddy Jim’s death, until I was 18 years old and was deemed a military brat. Well, I had have never outgrown that title. I denied it for years, but, that title will always be true. It is part of my family history and it is me. I can no longer deny these things and I am embracing them as Daddy Jim’s legacy. I am proud of that legacy.

These days I am saluting the planes in the skies over my life with a deeply heartfelt gusto as never before. And I cry. I cry my heart out. And it feels good even through the hurt, it feels good. I get an excitement in my heart when I hear the planes up there. They keep me company – I feel they are my support I needed all those years. I live in a rural area that is somewhat isolated compared to many folks. I have come to think of these military planes as my special angels and they are there to remind me of how special I was to my daddy. I am so grateful to them for their presence. It is hard to describe this transformation in my life, but, I’ve done the best I can here in this blog that morphs from one thing to the next. 

This is healing… this is welcome at this time in my life. Amidst a global pandemic of COVID-19, I can stand on my country home grounded, all alone, and yet feel protected and loved by some damn military planes in the air space above. It is an incredible feeling and an amazing gift from above. I can see and feel a mighty presence in those skies. They are MY angels as they always have been.

With much appreciation and love from a little military brat grounded for life, at an early age, in the knowledge she is loved by somebody in the sky. Faith, hope and love comes in many different forms for all of us, right? These days, my old heart smiles at the “Wild Blue Yonder” and “off I go”! I am not alone. Strategic Air Command has always been there for me, not just for the United States, but for me personally. Thank you for being my angels watching over me all my life!

———-

These Days

Gregg Allman

Well, I’ve been out walkin’
I don’t do that much talkin’ these days
These days
These days I seem to think a lot
About the things that I forgot to do
For you
And all the times I had the chance to

Well, I had a lover
I don’t think I’ll risk another these days
These days
These days I seem to be afraid
To live the life I have made in song
But it’s just that I have been losing so long

These days I sit on corner stones
Count the time in quarter tones ’til ten, my friend
And now I believe I’ve come to see myself again

These days I sit on corner stones
Count the time in quarter tones ’til ten, my friend
Please don’t confront me with my failures
I’m aware of them

Source: LyricFind

Songwriters: Bradley Kirk Arnold / Christopher Lee Henderson / Matthew Darrick Roberts / Robert Todd Harrell

These Days lyrics © Universal Music Publishing Group, Songtrust Ave