Thank You

Two simple words never carried such meaning and resonated in my heart with such power as when I heard Ched say, "Thank you."

We had traveled to Colorado Springs and the Air Force Academy to see Ched advance from 'Basic' to 'Cadet' in rank on Acceptance Day and it was an impressive parade and event. Four thousand Cadets marching across a rain soaked parade field, a U-2 fly over, the Air Force Academy Band playing stirring marches, a legacy class ('74) presentation of 'Contrails' to Outstanding Cadets representing their squadrons and then, of course, the presentation of shoulder boards to the newly 'accepted' Cadets. It was the first time we had been able to be with him since we dropped him off at the St. Louis International Airport on the 23rd of June - and those have been long weeks and days. For two hours we delighted in being with him as, first, the Commandant and Flight Commander of his Squadron attached his boards, then as we walked with him to his room, ate with him at a picnic we provided, and enjoyed the company of his newly-made friends and colleagues. Time seems never to have flown so quickly.

Then, with about 25 minutes to go before he had to report in, he and I carried the few items he could have in his room the half mile, up hill (no kidding), back to the dormitory, while Nancy, Ashley and our friend, Harvey Haynes, cleaned up the remnants of the repast. On the way he and I just talked 'talk', the kind of father/son stuff that only happens when no-one else is around . . . and the kind of which you will never hear in such an article as this, if for no other reason than it is sacred talk, much like the prayers we speak to God. It was a holy moment. Yet, it wasn't in that talk that it happened.

No, it happened as he escorted me back across the Terrazzo, back to the place where he would have to return to his dorm as I would move on towards our car. It happened at the door where our journeys would divide and it caught me so unexpectedly: This strong young man in blue, with newly attached shoulder boards marking endeavor and accomplishment, turned to me and gave me the biggest hug and whispered, "Thank you." He stepped back from me, then embraced me again and said, "I love you. Thank you." Oh my God, what a humbling moment!

With tears running down my face, I mumbled the words of fatherly pride and love that were, at the moment, all that I could manage, even as I told him we would see him in a month at Parent's Weekend, then I turned and headed to the steps before my emotions got the best of me. Pausing for a moment on the steps which would lead me away from him, I watched as he turned and began his walk of the marble pathway back to his dorm, the marble pathway of Doolies, and I quietly answered him through the wind, "Thank you, too, Ched."

Struggling to swallow the rising tide of emotion on the walk back to the car, the words he spoke kept echoing in my mind until, at the gate where visitors are stopped, it struck me like the lightning which had been passing through the region that day, "He is not a boy anymore." In those simple two words Ched was telling me, 'Thank you for getting me this far', 'Thank you for the faith you have placed in me', 'Thank you for your love and support', and, 'Thank you for never, ever just dropping me off anywhere.' But now, 'Thank you' also meant, 'I'm ready to be on my own.'

Oh, I know Ched will still need us for one thing or another (especially to pay the bills for the airline tickets back and forth from Denver on his times of leave), but now I also know he is at a point in his life when he is listening ever more intently to a Greater Voice who leads him on into the future God intends. Ched prays to, and trusts, God. As he held me and told me 'Thank you', he wasn't dismissing me, he was taking his place in God's future for him and owning his responsibility to follow God's call. Ched was acknowledging the love of his father as he endeavors to live into the Love of the Father. Is there anything more a father can ask?

Those two simple words have been rolling around in my heart for the last 48 hours - and I doubt that they will ever leave me, I pray they never do. Thank you, Ched, for being the man you are becoming and for the faithfulness you express in caring the way you do. May the Air Force Academy live into the gratitude you offer in your journey of life and may this father always cling to the power and transformation two words have had in him.

Thank you, Ched. I love you.

Dad