Bringing her husband home

My mom insisted on carrying her husband’s ashes on our United Airlines flight from Houston on Memorial Day weekend. A hard and heavy thing to carry, literally and emotionally. A sealed plastic box with the cremated remains of the man she’d married and shared her life with for 62 years. I’m sitting in the seat next to her, in the seat my father would have occupied.

It marks the first flight she’s taken since the summer of 2019, the summer before the pandemic and its lockdown. The last time she flew with her husband. The last time her whole family had been together.

In 2019, we gathered at my parents’ ancestral home on Aquidneck Island for a summer reunion. We have one photograph that shows all of us together, a quick snap made by balancing an iPhone on a trash can with a timer set, while we all squeezed together to fit in the frame. My parents. My younger sister. My two younger brothers with their wives and my niece and nephew.

When we had boarded the plane and stowed our bags overhead, including the small carry-on that we used to carry Dad on, I got up to speak to the flight attendant, Luke. I explained our situation. I told him that my mother was bringing her husband’s remains home. I asked for compassion and understanding. I also made a couple notes about my father on a piece of paper and asked Luke if he would relay them to the pilot.

Before we left the gate, the pilot came into the cabin.

“Are you the Hatch family,” he asked, leaning over to speak to my mother and me.

He introduced himself. Capt. Ken Saunders.

He put his hand over his heart and offered his condolences. He kept his hand over his heart as he told us that it was his honor to have Col. John Hatch, Jr. on board today, and it was his privilege to bring him home.

His thoughtful, kind words moved my mother. I believe his words brought her comfort–and some joy–that her beloved husband was recognized and remembered. Because of the pandemic restrictions, we have not yet had a funeral service for my father; we have not yet gathered to remember, honor and celebrate him and his life.

When the flight leveled out, the captain spoke over the PA system. He said on this Memorial Day weekend, it is a important that we remember those who have served. He said it was particularly fitting that he and the crew had the honor of bringing Col. John F. Hatch, Jr. home today. He noted that Col. Hatch’s family was on board.

He continued. Col. Hatch served two tours in Vietnam and 30 years in the U.S. Army. He is a highly decorated officer. It is our honor to bring him to his Rhode Island home.

During the three-hour flight, a couple men passed us with their hands over their hearts. We were either wearing our grief, or they had noticed the pilot talking to us before takeoff.

When we landed, Captain Saunders came on the PA system. He again noted that it had been their honor to bring Col. John F. Hatch, Jr. home to Rhode Island. 

As Mom and I stood to gather our things, people offered their condolences. A woman handed us a folded piece of lined notebook paper.

“This is for you. You don’t have to read it now.”

Mom accepted the note and thanked her.

My mother was the first one off the plane.

I paused behind her and attempted to capture the moment with my iPhone. My solitary mother, soldiering on, pressing forward up the incline of jet-way, her right shoulder weighed down by the bag with my father’s ashes, by the burden of her loss. 

I struggled to keep up with my mother and make a photo. I was clumsy because I was carrying everything else, and I felt rushed because I didn’t want to block the way of the other passengers who were disembarking behind me.

I have the one frame that I posted at the top of this blog. It’s not an easy read, though I have come to appreciate it. The bright white lights and the blurry, somber silhouette of my mother, traveling alone and traveling with her husband one last time.

After we cleared the plane, we paused in the airport. Mom unfolded the note.

“Dearest Hatch family,

It is an honor and privilege to fly with Colonel John Hatch, Jr. today.

Thank you for his 30 years of service to our country and his two tours in Vietnam.

And we also thank all those who have served and continue to serve.

God bless.”

God bless indeed. We were blessed by the kindness of the people who shared our journey. Capt. Saunders, Luke, the men with their hands over their hearts and the woman who took the time to pen a personal note in impeccable script.

This August we will all gather in Rhode Island again. The 2021 family portrait will be missing two people: my father, who died in August 2020, and my younger sister, who died in January 2021. My brother and his wife will bring her ashes.

It will be the first opportunity that we will have to gather with family and friends, who will travel from across the country and the oceans to join us as we mourn, remember and celebrate my mother’s husband and her youngest daughter, to remember my father and my sister. 

It will mark our first time to shed tears together, hug one another, share stories and laughter, break bread together and celebrate the two beloved people who have been a part of our family for as long as we can remember.

We will remember them, always.

Copyright 2021 Cheryl Hatch ALL RIGHTS RESERVED