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Prayer for My Father's Flight

After my mother died, I began what turned out to be a long, mostly leisurely, sometimes difficult, but always holy walk with my father through the last twelve years of his life. That walk both deepened and stretched our relationship. There were wonderful times—the familiar rotation of family birthdays, a couple of unique trips abroad, shared meals listening to parts of his story I’d not heard before. It was easy to see those moments as holy. There were also difficult times, especially in the last two years: moving him from independent to assisted living; convincing him to give up his car; getting him to accept a move into the health care wing of the progressive care facility he had chosen as

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