The summer of 2004 our adventure into flying became a reality.  It was no longer just a dream or a prayer, it had become the current situation of our life.   We were crammed into a one bedroom apartment on the third floor of a massive apartment complex; our belongings strewn across two states and we knew exactly no one.  We were both thrilled and terrified, and fully steadfast.  

Summer.

The summer of 2004 would be a special one.  We had about eleven weeks together before our family would separate for the entire school year.  Jeff would start ground school almost immediately while the kids and I would spend our days at the pool or a park or anywhere free.  The hot summer days went by quicker than I imagined, and, just like that, we were brown as coffee beans from the Florida sun; it felt almost magical, to be honest.  For the first time in years I didn’t feel the heaviness of responsibility, it felt like I escaped it for just a little while and all that mattered was time spent together.  Interestingly, the kids never once complained about sleeping on a fold-out sofa in the living room, it’s like we took on this adventure as though we were living out a fictional children’s book.  Lots of action and a compelling storyline, but, with that comes sacrifice, hence, sleeping in a crowded space, eating lots of food out of a can, spending long hours outside and exploring every chance we got.  As hard as those days appeared from the outside, those of us on the inside felt mostly happiness as we focused on the escapade of it all. 

Things hadn’t gotten very hard yet, that would come later, but for these days of summer, we played, loved, and enjoyed the adventure.

Jeff, on the other hand, was working hard in ground school.  He had a stack of (index) study cards that was at least six inches tall.  He would study for hours and hours; there was so much to learn.  When he had a test, I would quiz him using the cards; I’m still amazed how much he was able to learn so quickly.  I can tell you, if you’re flying, these pilots are THOROUGHLY trained and knowledgeable.  So many of our days looked like play time around the pool or at a park while Jeff was at school, and our evenings looked like cooking supper in a kitchen the size of a closet, then Jeff and I sitting around the kitchen bar going over hundreds of index cards loaded with information.   You know, during all this he never complained, he was so incredibly grateful for the chance to fly.  He would tell me he had to pinch himself sometimes to make sure it was all really happening.

He flew through ground school.  (Pun intended. Ha!) 

And then it was time.

His first training flight.

Let me rabbit trail here for a sec and tell you I love Sonny’s.  What?  Yes, Sonny’s bar-b-que.  There was one not far from the apartment and, every once in a while, we would eat there.   It wasn’t very expensive and you got a lot of food, so it was a win-win in my book.  The rest of my family tolerated Sonny’s, I’m still not sure why it’s not everyone’s favorite, I still love it to this day.  Back to the story, the day Jeff was going to fly in a small Cessna for the very first time with a flight instructor, we were SO excited!  We’d worked hard to get through ground school and now it was time, he was going to FLY.  That very first flight was the start of his path to doing it for a living.   It was a day to celebrate!  So, we decided to go out to eat, in honor of the milestone and, of course, we ended up at Sonny’s.  After lunch, I kissed my husband goodbye and wished him good luck and the kids and I went back to the apartment.  I’m pretty sure we ended up at the pool and I waited with bated breath to hear from him once he was done.  I don’t think I mentioned this earlier, but our apartment complex was really close to the airport so we saw planes landing and taking off all the time, I think that was a clever detail God included for us as we faced these days.  So I laid by the pool and, while the kids swam, I watched airplanes and waited to for Jeff to call.

I’m not sure exactly what time it was when I heard from him, but it was several hours later.  The phone call was quick and I could tell he wasn’t in the best mood, my heart dropped as all the worst case scenarios came crashing into my mind.   What had happened?  He told me he’d talk to me when he got home and I paced the small apartment floor until he got there.  What he told me left me completely speechless.

I wish I could tell you in person because I’m not sure I can adequately put into written words what went down that day.  But, I’ll give it my best shot.

This is Jeff’s story…

“We took off into a brilliant blue sky, and it felt like the most beautiful dream coming true as we soared.”

Okay, so maybe I’m adding some descriptive words to the story, I can’t help myself.

“We were flying along at three thousand feet when it hit me”

“What hit you?” I asked anxiously.  I was fully invested in every word.

“Sonny’s” he said in a serious tone.

“Sonny’s?  I don’t understand?”  I was so puzzled.  What did Sonny’s have to do with anything? 

“Sonny’s made a second appearance at three thousand feet and now it’s all over the side of the airplane.”

It took me a few seconds to fully understand, but then it hit me. 

“Wait, so, you have airsickness?”

You guys, every hope I had fell flat right then.  All we’d been through, all we’d given up, only to find out this man I loved so dearly, who wanted to fly more than anything, had airsickness.  How do you fly if you get airsick?? 

He sat at the kitchen table, head in hands, quiet, for the longest time. 

“What do we do now?”  I finally broke the silence.

“I don’t know.”

All the “wind beneath our wings” quietly disappeared.