Stardate 08.23.2026
It wasn't the entire song. It was one line.
A gathering of angels appeared above my head.
The words come from Come Sail Away by Styx, a band whose music carried me through some challenging years as a teenager. I hadn't been thinking about the song when I went to sleep.
Earlier in the night, I had trouble falling back asleep, so I prayed and meditated. My meditation always ends the same way. I picture myself sending my thoughts to Jesus. When I finished, I drifted back to sleep.
Hours later, I woke with those words.
Then the faces began coming to mind.
Erin was the first.
I dedicated The Adventures of Castaway Wilson to Erin. A few weeks ago, while walking along the Yellow Brick Road during my travels, I saw an oversized statue of Glinda, the Good Witch of the North.
I stopped and took a picture.
Erin had played Glinda in the first play I saw with our children when they were young. Glinda captivated them. After the performance, they got to meet her backstage.
Seeing Glinda again brought Erin back into my thoughts.
Then I remembered my first doubles partner from the tennis team at Sunnyslope High School. He died of AIDS while attending college. He was far too young.
David came next. He was in a younger class, yet he always made a point of connecting with me whenever I returned to Arizona. David had a gift for seeing people who had passed.
David died of COVID.
His girlfriend later volunteered to help promote my writing to people living in Arizona, where I grew up.
I met her while attending a celebration of life for another classmate. He knew he was dying, but he didn't want to die before throwing a party. He became too sick to attend the final tribute, so we brought the tribute to him. We recorded a live video and honored him during his final time on earth.
Then I thought about Mark.
Mark knew his heart was too large for him to live a long life. His doctors told him there was nothing they could do. He chose to live fully anyway. He became a golf professional in New Mexico, and we stayed in touch.
The day Mark left our neighborhood was a sad day for all of us.
There were aunts and uncles who followed in quick succession. My godmother was among them. She prayed like no other.
Now my godfather is facing health issues of his own. He and my godmother were my parents' closest friends. He was a member of the first wrestling team at Arizona State University. We comforted him when my godmother passed, and he has continued to stay connected with our family.
There are friends in my circle who are battling serious diseases today.
All of these people were somehow gathered in my thoughts this morning.
And then I remembered the feather.
Not long ago, I was simply walking.
Nothing unusual was happening around me. There was no obvious explanation for what happened next.
A large white feather appeared above me.
It floated gently downward and landed in front of me.
I stopped.
I looked at it.
I still don't know where it came from.
I don't know whether it was simply a feather carried by the wind or something I was meant to notice.
I do know what happened after I saw it.
I thought about the people I loved who were no longer here.
This morning, when those words from Come Sail Away appeared in my mind, I thought about them again.
A gathering of angels appeared above my head.
Maybe that line stayed with me because I have experienced so many departures.
Maybe the feather stayed with me for the same reason.
I don't need to explain either one.
There are things in life I am comfortable leaving in the hands of God.
Today is my last family day at home for a while. Tomorrow I begin another journey.
Before I leave, I find myself thinking about everyone who has helped shape the life I get to live.
Some are sitting around tables and sharing meals.
Some are fighting to stay.
Some exist only in photographs and memories.
Yet their lives continue to influence mine.
My godmother's prayers still come to mind.
Mark's decision to live fully still speaks to me.
David's unusual gift still makes me wonder.
Erin still appears whenever I see Glinda.
And a large white feather still reminds me to look up.
Maybe that's all I was supposed to do.
Look up.
Remember.
Give thanks.
Then keep walking.
"Precious in the sight of the Lord is the death of his faithful ones." — Psalm 116:15
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Captain's Addendum
"Michael," Bones said, "you've been visited by angels, feathers, Glinda, and a song from your teenage years. Are you sure you're getting enough sleep?"
Spock raised an eyebrow. "Doctor, the Captain has already established that his most interesting experiences occur somewhere between meditation and sleep."
"I still think we should let him enjoy the mystery."
I smiled.
He's right.
Some things are better left unexplained.
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