Flying Home

The other day on my way back from doing some errands, I saw a large flock of migratory birds in a very long V-formation. It was one of the longest perfect V-pattern I have seen for a while. Since I was driving through a less traveled dirt road, I was able to stop and snap a picture of it.

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It was an amazing sight to say the least, with their wonderful flight formation, and all 100 or so of them (yes, I counted them), maintaining their alignment.

Why do birds fly in the V-formation anyway? Studies have shown that they do this to catch the updraft wind created by the flapping of the wings of the one preceding them. This make their flight more aerodynamic and efficient. But what about the bird in the very front? It is doing all the hard work, right? Well, it was observed that they take turns on being the lead flyer. Interesting.

As I was watching them, I have noted that they were heading North. A little more Northwest to be exact, according to the compass on my iPhone. That means this cold winter is finally ending and spring is coming, as the migratory birds are coming back home from their migration down south.

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Another question that comes to mind is how do they navigate their way without using GPS? Research indicates that they employ many techniques like using the position of the sun or the stars, or rely on big landmarks like lakes or mountains. But the most fascinating part is that birds seem to have a built-in compass in their brain, like a magnet, that can sense the Earth’s magnetic field, so they know which way is North and which way is South. They do have GPS after all.

Yet the most intriguing part to me is why do these migratory birds fly back North to the place where they were born (or hatch) every spring? They could have stayed in the South where it is always warm and save them all the trouble of flying so many miles. Do you suppose they do this to earn frequent flyer miles? Every year they come back to the place where their parents raised them, a place where they spend the first summer of their lives. They do always come back home.

I don’t think only migratory birds are like that. I think many creatures including us, humans, long to go back home. There might be innumerable hassles in traveling back. There may be chronic ills pestering the land where we came from. Yet there is something magical to that place where we were born and raised. Something more than mere nostalgia. Something much deeper. And it does not matter how far we have wandered away. It does not matter how long we have been gone. The connection and pull of that place we have once called home is always there.

I was musing with all this flying home subject matter when I was interrupted by an announcement overhead. I adjusted my seatbelt and looked outside my window.

I am nearing home.

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(*photo taken with iPhone)

Daddy is Home

It was a long day.

In reality, it had been a series of long days, and long weeks, of a long month. You see, I have been the ICU attending physician for the past 4 weeks, and the stress of work and taking care of very sick patients was like a dragon breathing down my neck. It was wearing me down.

I came home feeling depleted and defeated.

Even though it was late, my wife and kids were just happy to see me home. My wife has even waited for me to eat dinner, though I knew she was tired and hungry too. It felt good to be home after such an arduous day.

Before we went to bed, we had a family prayer, just like every night. My son led the prayer, and I heard him say, “Thank you God, for bringing Daddy home.”

Suddenly, all the day’s cares melted away. I felt so blessed.

As I rest my head on the pillow, I thought of the other fathers in the world that were not able to come home. The overseas contract workers. The soldiers deployed somewhere away from their home. And the others for some reason or another that cannot come home tonight. Including our patients that were languishing in the ICU. I felt sad for them and their kids who cannot say the prayer of thanks that my son did.

I especially thought of the father I took care earlier today. He will not come home. Ever.

May he rest in peace. And I pray that his family find peace.

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waiting for daddy

(*photo from here)

Lost Sheep is Home

Since I started blogging a year ago, I have written in memoriam for friends and family who have passed on. It is not my intent to make this blog an obituary section. I know, I have also scratched the topic of death several times in my posts. It is neither my intent to be morbid. It is just that death is a real part of life.

Yesterday we learned that another brother of my wife had died. (One brother died 4 months ago.) He just turned 50.

He was known to be the black sheep of the family, the prodigal son, the lost sheep. But that was during his much younger years. As he became older and “wiser,” he returned to the fold and was found. It was ironic he said, that when he became blind (as his eyesight started to fail even at his age), it was then that he can “see,” and was not lost anymore.

With his life story, I am reminded of a famous hymn written by William Kirkpatrick: Lord, I’m Coming Home.

Coming home, coming home

Never more to roam;

Open wide Thine arms of love,

Lord, I’m coming home.

This time is very difficult for our family, especially to my mother-in-law, who has to bury his 2 youngest sons in such a short span of time. But it is reassuring to know that this lost sheep, had come home. Now he sleeps in the bosom of God.