Lucas Camilo

(Krista writing) Tomorrow I’m flying to Idaho, then driving to Jackpot, Nevada, to mark the 10 year anniversary of my dad’s death.  It’s strange for me to have so many people in my life who never got to know my dad – he’s such a big part of who I am today.  So I thought I’d write a little about him here.

Gary Craig Hanson was brilliant, warm, and incredibly hard working.  He taught me how to build a house (when I was five) and how to ride a horse (when I was ten) and how to save money and run a business (when I was still way too young to question capitalism).  Somewhere I still have a list he helped me to make with my short, medium, and long-term goals scrawled in pencil on a torn-out piece of notebook paper.  My dad was also deeply emotional, at times passionate and happy, at others angry or overwhelmed with despair.

My dad died on July 7, 2001 when he was flying his small plane to a “fly-in” with other pilots in Jackpot.  He’d had his license for about five years and had flown that plane dozens of times.  Weeks later, when we were going through his file cabinets, I found a folder with old pictures of airplanes.  There was a cover letter from TWA to Gary Hanson, saying they had enclosed the pictures of planes he had requested.  It was dated 1950 – he’d been dreaming about flying since he was five years old.

On the day of the fly-in, when he banked the plane to turn to land, the conditions were just wrong enough that the wing tipped and the plane spun out of control.  At the time I was living in Cholula, Mexico and had no phone or computer, so it took 24 hours for word to reach me.  My uncles drove to Nevada and brought his ashes home to Oregon.

It’s been a strange thing to become a parent without having my dad here to witness and support and love Lucas and me.  I know he would have absolutely loved Lucas, and I know it would have made him happy to see me grow into being a mom.  He used to tell me how much he loved learning from my sister and me, and we were still practically kids (20 and 24) when he died.   So I know if he were still here he would have been enthusiastic about learning everything Lucas has to teach.

I’m not exactly sure what I’ll get out of this trip, but I’m thankful to Burke for encouraging me to go.  I’m also glad my uncle, aunt, cousins, and family friends will be there with me.  I’m looking forward to knowing what the place looks like – to seeing the scenery he saw last.  I’m looking forward to telling stories and remembering him.  And I’m hoping to find a place in the desert to sit and begin to tell him everything I’ve learned in the last ten years.

<><><><>

Prayer for My Father

May your beautiful, graceful spirit know how deeply you are loved.

May we carry on your legacy of courage and curiosity,
service and awe at the workings of the universe.

May we continue your work of learning
self-acceptance and forgiveness.

May we wake each morning with gratitude
for the tree or mountaintop or field or flower
we can see from our kitchen window.

May we find connection through humility,
admitting our weaknesses and
wearing our greasy work clothes in public,
even when it embarrasses our children.

May we have the courage to dream radical dreams,
to believe that we will one day fly,
and be fearlessly content regardless of the outcome.

May we know the tenderness of a listening parent
and the truth in stillness.

May we forgive ourselves, our families, our friends,
then strangers and enemies,
knowing they, too, dream secret dreams.

May we treat animals with kindness and respect
and a love that recognizes equality of all beings living on this planet.

And may our hearts find freedom
so we can fully behold the magnificence of this life.

Gary Craig Hanson, Sept. 10, 1945 - July 7, 2001