When the Homily is about Immunology

Airport Reflections

So here I sit, alone, at Hopkins International Airport in Cleveland Ohio. The reunion is over and I am on my anxious way home. But enslaved to the airline’s schedule and possibly God’s awesome Midwest weather – I sit and wait…alone. Save the tasty little (20oz actually..hehehe) Pale Ale called “The Burning River” (named in honor of the Cleveland’s illustrious "fire hazard" river, the Cuyahoga.) courtesy of the Great Lakes Brewing Company (and my “blow” money). Not bad at all…hoppy enough on my tongue to be an IPA and so I can imagine what this Brewery has done with their “Commodore Perry IPA” which is sadly not in season I guess. (Oh, though, to get home to my sweet old friend La Conner.)

If you have ever traveled alone, you know what this time is like…I think. When I am alone in an airport or on an airplane, I find myself to be in a sort of hyper reflective mood. Sometimes it is very internalized (e.g. where am I? Where am I going? What am I doing with my life?), sometimes it is externalized and experiential (e.g. What have I gleaned from these past few days? Can I remember everyone I met? Will I stay in touch with them?) and, of course, sometimes it is a mix of both.

To no small extent I feel as if these great big airplanes I have been flying on, have transported me back in time, and not just to my own time – for yes, I can see many old and familiar landmarks of my youth, I experience the lovely little ritual of lightening bugs dancing about as we come to the setting of the sun, and I witness a massive thunderstorm being born in the distance and almost overtaking us before we can finish shucking the corn in the field for dinner – but also into a past utterly unknown to me. In a way, I can see the future “Bohunk” coal miners, braving the north atlantic in search of a better life, and settling in the northeast of America, eventually carving out an existence that has made for most of their descendants a life undreamed of by those left in the “old country.”

I have many thoughts in regards to what I have experienced….but as the time approaches for me to see about getting to my gate – for what will likely be a thunderstorm dodging adventure – I will simply say this for now:

As I gave my presentation concerning all that I have learned about our immigrant parents, grandparents, or great grandparents: Anna “Baba” Oleksa and Janos “Dzedo” Sisak, I paused for a brief moment to look at the 100+ people who were seated in front of me. It occurred to me that the two people from whom we all descended (or married a descendant of) have touched each and everyone of us in someway – even my own children! Whatever good they did for their children, whatever wisdom they offered, whatever joy and love they showed and – sadly – whatever grief they gave their children remained still in that room. Generations to come may well be blessed or cursed to have descended from them.

My (and your) Parenthood will LITERALLY change the lives of hundred, thousands, even millions of people. What is the most important job on earth? Frankly, Mother Theresa cannot touch the wonders that may be worked by a devoted and loving parent…it’s just that we die before we could ever see the full and glorious fruit we can bring forth – simply by loving and giving ourselves to the lives of our children. So, James, you wanna make a difference in this world? BE A DAMN GOOD DAD!

I hope and pray that when hundreds of my descendants are gathered in reunion, that they will be able to speaking lovingly and graciously of my wife and me…but it is our responsibility to make that happen. Saving the world begins (and in fact may end) in my home.