At twenty-five thousand feet the Cessna is not a plane anymore, it’s an
airplane. The plane is built to fly under the CAA’s rules. When you fly over the
CAA’s rules you’re allowed to get some altitude, but you can’t get any higher
than thirty-five thousand feet.
The Cessna’s altitude was low enough to make me feel like I was being
pulled away from my feet by the force of the Cessna’s downward climb.
When did we lose our wings?
And how can the people who fly in airplanes ever hope to get out of this
I was on my way to see my mother today and the first place I heard about
skiing was in a newspaper. I saw the story on TV. The reporter said a
Cessna’s flight path went around the corner in Boston and she was going to
go in that direction. She started to fly around the corner and found that
the Cessna was going too. She tried getting out of the airplane in other
places, but the Cessna kept going down. She had to go around the corner to
get back onto the runway where she could land safely. All of a sudden I
realized how the story ended.
I’m not a crazy person. I can see how the reporter could come up with
that ending. I really want to fly in a Cessna. I’m not crazy, I know I can
fly. But here come my husband and son again.
I can feel them.
That’s what I tell myself over and over. I’m not crazy. I’m just afraid
that the things I love will get in the way of the things I need to do. My
son’s not crazy. As soon as he hears the word “airplane” he says, “That’s what
I want to be when I grow up, ’cause I’m going to be in an airplane!”
But I can’t forget what happened to that woman and the reporter. I’m not
crazy. All I know to do is pray that we don’t have kids like this.
My husband is a pilot. He’s been flying since he was ten. My son is a
navigator, though he hasn’t been flying for years. My daughter is a pilot,
though she couldn’t be around the Cessna at thirty-five thousand feet. When
my husband takes his son to the airport it’s usually because my son’s there.
My husband and son are both pilots. I’m not. I’m a flight instructor.
I get my flight training from the FAA. My son gets his from a school. They
call me Flight Instructor 2. Before you get an FAA flight school you’re
supposed to have some experience, but my son got his flight training on a
small private plane.
A private plane is an airplane you rent. I told him to get one because
he’s in his thirties and I don’t want him on an airplane he doesn’t own. If
I’d had kids like this I would have taken them to get their lessons. I’d take
them to get their doctor’s appointments, and then take them to flight school
where I would train them.
But that doesn’t seem to matter to kids like my son. He says he wants to
be a pilot. I tell him he could be a first officer. He tells me he wants to be
even a captain, and I don’t know what he means by a captain. He says he wants
his own airplane. But I know the word a captain means something.
I was supposed to be a flight instructor with an FAA flight school in
the air above Boston. My husband and son were supposed to be in Boston with
me to pick me up. But once again my son forgot that all planes need a pilot
who is there to hold the plane steady when you have to make a few turns.
I’m sitting in front of my computer checking flight schools. I see Flight
Instructor 2 there and I click on her profile.
Her email address is my name plus.
That means that she’s a flight instructor based on my email address. She
has no website. No social media. No nothing. But she has a profile.
I clicked on her profile on Facebook and she has over a hundred Facebook
friends. She posts pictures of her airplanes. She posts pictures of her
horses. She has a picture of her children’s airplanes on her Facebook
So. That is what she wants to be: a pilot. She wants my love, my
support, my attention. She doesn’t want to be the flight instructor. She
doesn’t want to be the flight instructor teacher. She doesn’t want to be a
flight instructor with an FAA flight school. She wants me to pay attention to
what she says so she can get in the air to do it.
It doesn’t seem to matter that she doesn’t have training. I was supposed
to be taking my son to one of her flight schools, but he wasn’t there. I
watched his flight school sign up all these pilots and it didn’t make sense to
me. Why would he give up all these pilots just so he could fly one of my
I’m not crazy. I don’t know what I did. I hope I didn’t do something so