This morning I woke up on the other side of the country. I spent a good chunk of the day yesterday flying from Arizona to Virginia to visit my daughter and three of my grandkids. I am eternally grateful for air travel!
The first time I flew on an airplane, I was a pre-teen. My dad had received military orders for Germany and my parents were concerned about my sisters and me having trouble flying. On a short vacation, my parents decided mom and the three of us would fly to our current home in Mississippi from Atlanta and dad would drive the car home. It was magical! I was hooked!
Since then I’ve flown all over the world. I’ve taken short “hops” of less than an hour and spent way too many hours in an aircraft seat bound for some far-off destination. I’ve killed hours and hours in foreign airports on layovers and made mad dashes to ensure I got to my connecting flight.
I’ve missed flights, arrived at my destination only to discover my bags did not arrive with me, and had brand new luggage smashed up.
I’ve flown in a two-seater aircraft built by a friend, looked down over my neighborhood with Greg at the controls …
… took a lesson with the goal of getting my pilot’s license and even helped pass the family tradition of flying on to my granddaughter when we took her up at two months old.
No matter where I am going, walking through an airport is exhilarating. The sheer realization that all the people around me will soon be soaring through the air — or just came from there — reminds me that nowhere is out of reach. Yep … air travel fills me with joy and gratitude.
There’s a whole world out there just waiting to be explored. Thank goodness air travel can help us reach the far-flung corners.
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