Flying solo

The flight attendant walked down the aisle, checking one final time that everyone had their seat belt buckled. The pilot steered the plane into position and when he was ready, the engine rose a few more decibels and then pushed forward, speeding down the runway. Before I knew it, we were lifting-up off the ground and into the air. 

My stomach felt queasy. I tried to figure out why. I love to fly. The kid in me that’s still eyes-wide-open has never gotten over the beauty and majesty of flight, so I knew it wasn’t nerves. However, most of my trips in the past have been with my wife. The sour feeling was the strangeness of traveling on my own. 

When I was young, I loved to travel. The few times it was for work, it was even better, better to be on their dime. As time has worn on though, it’s not as much fun, I miss hanging with my wife.

Flying without a parachute

While it was strange flying on my own, the good thing about flying is that I find that it helps me focus on my priorities and what matters most in my life. It’s like a scientist looking through a microscope, it’s a tool that lets me see things up close and personal. That’s what flying does for me.

In many respects, I suspect it’s that same little kid coming out, looking past all the excess baggage and seeing the good in life, grateful for what I have. So with this latest trip, three small things jumped out at me:

• I’m grateful for my family and friends, and the friends and acquaintances I’ve made from this blog.
• I have a strong sense that new challenges and adventures are coming our way as my wife and I enter a new phase. We’re empty nesters now, we have the entire world in front of us.
• I’m reminded that life is hard, it’s not always perfect, but you learn, you pick yourself up and try again.

Flying off the handle

And one more thing, Boston, you are a lovely city, I can’t wait to come back, this time for pleasure instead of work, but can we get rid of the Pat the Patriot and Lucky the Leprechaun statues located in Boston Logan International Airport.

No, okay, I get it, but, as an out-of-towner, I had to ask. Until we see you again, have a wicked good time.