Creative Connections, By Sara Aeikens

Editor’s note: This column is continued from one that printed last Tuesday.

Friends and family filled the funeral home as the pilot and I filed into the last few seats in the back row. When the pastor requested stories, several spontaneously came to the pulpit to share their moving experiences about the 95-year-old-relative and neighborhood former farmer. After the service, my Missouri cousin and his wife took us for the burial on rural gravel roads and past an abandoned-looking church to a fairly large cemetery, where a dozen or so military honor guards prepared their salute. Our final back-roads trip took us to a schoolhouse in the tiny town of Bonaparte for a luncheon.

Somewhere in this journey, I asked my pilot friend what he might recall the most from our Iowa experience. He shared that even though he’s not fond of funerals, he really appreciated and connected to the honorable characteristics engrained in the long life of the farmer, family and community man who made a positive mark on many. I felt fortunate to reconnect with cousins from all around the U.S. and also gratitude for being able to spend a few moments to share my heartfelt feelings with their mother, who’d lost her beloved husband.

Afterward, my Missouri cousin consented to drive us back to the airport and also near Salem, Iowa, (where some of the cousins were staying at the family farm owned by my aunt’s family) to revisit that farm and see the 150-year old heritage sign signifying its historical value. Next, my cousin decided to take us into the town of Mt. Pleasant for a nostalgic tour, including the college buildings near long-gone houses from grandparents on both sides. We didn’t find the old stone water mill in the goldfish pond near the college that provided me with precious childhood memories.  Meanwhile as the sun slid down, we headed back toward the airport. My cousin and my pilot enjoyed conversing and sharing flying information while they talked, as the plane was being prepared for immediate flight. Soon, my cousin and his wife leaned on the main gate fence and enthusiastically waved goodbye through our whole takeoff procedure.

My most cherished memory on our flight home happened almost toward the end of the trip. As twilight approached, I turned to the left to see the horizon ablaze with the sun just on the edge of the earth. With lots of effort, I shifted my entire body beneath the double seat belt for the opposite view under the right wing tip. The totally forgotten, completely full moon covered the entire space with unexpected sparkling radiance, with me barely believing such special contrasting sky-painting could be possible. With so much joy on our descent, I recall no horrific ear pain, such as on our previous landing. I then thought about feeling totally safe on touch down, thankful for being able to make the trip and having it unfold without knowing ahead of time how it would turn out.

Sara Aeikens is an Albert Lea resident.