Flying the Friendly Skies

When I was a kid, I got to fly between Dallas and Houston to go see my grandparents for summer vacations. I know that the first time I flew by myself I was definitely under the age of 5. Shocking now to think that, but this was the late 70’s. I remember my grandfather dropping me at the airport and loading me on the plane. I had on my denim jumper, white tights, and red shoes. I vaguely remember a stuffed animal of some sort. Just before he left me on the plane, my grandfather took a pin from his pocket and put it on the lapel of my dress. It was a little train engine. The Little Engine That Could. I was a little afraid to be flying all alone. But my grandfather told me to just remember that “I think I can, I think I can, I think I can” and to not be afraid.

With the little train engine pin long gone, tomorrow I’ll be popping a couple of Xanax as I board my flight to Baltimore. Thunderstorms are forecast for both the takeoff and landing destinations. I don’t fly well anyway. Next week, I get to board my first commuter jet as I journey to Alabama. And then the following week, I get to see Cinncinnati for the first time in my life. Three plane trips in three weeks. Six of each; take-offs and landings. Hopefully all the TB patients have been contained this week.

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