name is Walter. I never liked it growing up. Mom only told me it belonged to someone special.”
Dad covered his face.
I held him while he cried.
Shortly afterward, a flight attendant asked Grant to return to his seat for landing.
Before leaving, he thanked Dad once again.
“For my mother’s life,” he whispered. “And for mine.”
The aircraft landed smoothly.
Dad watched the runway through the window with the attention of someone who still understood every movement.
“Beautiful landing,” he murmured.
“That boy has become quite a pilot.”
