A few weeks ago, I was contacted by a friend that works at the Shenandoah Valley Airport. She told me about Fly-Hope-Dream, an organization founded by Gareth Williams in memory of his son Timmy who passed away at 12 years of age from a rare cardiopulmonary disease. Fly-Hope-Dream has a mission "to transform the loss of a child from tragedy into legacy, one family at a time." One of the services they offer to families is free rides in a 1942 Stearman. During World War II, the Stearman was the standard trainer for pilots in the US Army and Navy. A whole generation of pilots earned their wings on this type of aircraft, learning primary, advanced and aerobatic flight techniques. For the era, the Stearman was a highly sophisticated and well-made machine.
When my friend told me this organization was coming to the Valley and asked me if I wanted the opportunity to take a flight, I told her thanks but no thanks. I believe my exact words were, "I'd be scared to death to go up in one of those things." Those who know me well know that it wasn't that long ago that I overcame my fear of commercial flying and that I much prefer larger aircraft to the smaller version. I promised my friend that I'd ask around and see if anyone else in my family would be interested, and I helped her pass on the information to my friends at the Sadie Rose Foundation.
On Sunday, when I saw pictures from another friend's experience up in air, I began thinking. I thought about how you'd never get this experience, and about how I was only getting the opportunity for this once in a lifetime experience because of you. I thought about all the times I've promised myself that I will live my life in honor of you, and I realized that facing my fears might sometimes be required in order to do that. I reached out to Gareth on Monday morning feeling brave and full of courage, although I will admit that when he told me he could fit me in for a flight, my reslove wavered a just a little. (It wavered a little bit more when I saw the actual plane I would be getting on!)
I called Grami that morning and told her about my plans, and I think she was quite surprised. She called later and said that Papaw had decided that he'd like to take a flight too. So, Papaw, Grami, Ava and Abigail all came to the airport. Ava was my cheerleader and supporter as always. I think Abigail would have happily taken my place if I had chickened out. When my turn came and they sat her on my lap for a picture, she started waving and saying "bye" to everyone below. Good luck to Aunt Becca and Uncle Dustin, because I think cousin Abigail is going to be a little daredevil! Later, my friend Kaitlin and even the CEO of my company came by to wish me good luck.
Several people were taking flights, so there was a lot of waiting. When my turn finally came, the plane's engine flooded (nothing that impacted the safety of the plane), and so there was a little more waiting. Before I got strapped in the second time, Gareth took some time to tell us about the plane and about his organization. I had read a little about Fly-Hope-Dream when my friend first told me about the organization, and I had thought at the time that it was pretty cool that God could use someone's talent of flying in such a unique way. However, I have to admit that prior to the experience, I couldn't quite make the connection between flying and healing. Then Gareth explained it in such an amazing way.
He said to him, grief is like standing in front of a really tall building. The building stands dauntingly in front of you, and it is everything. You can see nothing else except the building...there is nothing beside it, nothing behind it, nothing around it. It's sheer size is overwhelming, and it seems impossible that anything else in life could exist.
But when you get in the air, suddenly your vantage point has changed. Yes, the building is still there, and it always will be, but it is smaller now and you can begin to see around it. There are so many other beautiful things around that building, and that gives you hope.
My experience in the air was definitely worth all the waiting. I strapped your little gray elephant in with me, and together we took off. In an open-air cockpit, hundreds of feet above the ground, I didn't feel nervous or anxious at all. I felt grateful. Grateful that my life contains so much more than the grief. Grateful that there are people who use their God-given talents in such an amazing and meaningful way. Grateful to live in such a beautiful and majestic place. Grateful that fear didn't stop me from experiencing a once in a lifetime moment. Grateful to you because you are the reason that it didn't.
Papaw and I were talking after our flights about how odd it is that you can live somewhere your whole life, and yet when you are looking down on it from hundreds of feet up in the air, it hardly seems recognizable at all. Every once in a while, you might get a glimpse of something that seems familiar, but you can't quite get your barrings to figure out exactly where you are. I realized later that the last eight months of my life has felt exactly the same way... my life often feels unrecognizable from the life I had before you.
When he briefed us for our flight experience, Gareth gave us each a card with a small note from him. On the front was this quote:
"Catastrophic loss will transform us or destroy us, but it will never leave us the same."My sweet, sweet son...losing you has not destroyed me. You have transformed me, and I am so glad that I won't ever be the same. I wouldn't want to be.
Love,
Mommy
Grami, Papaw, Ava, Abigal and Me. Of course we wore our "Team Moments with Morris" shirts!
Morris and Mommy strapped in before take-off. I hope you enjoyed our ride as much as I did!
Papaw and Me with Gareth Williams, Chief Pilot and Founder of Fly-Hope-Dream.
How many people can say that they took a selfie with the pilot of a 1942 Stearman while in air?!
Papaw's turn...doesn't he look like Tom Cruise in Top Gun?!
Papaw and Gareth taxing to the runway.
