Flying High

Last Saturday I took my father out to a local airfield and he got to fly in this plane, a Texan TA-6, also known as the SNJ. It was used as the primary trainer for naval aviators for years and years following WWII. My father went to school as a young boy on the navy base and walked past these trainers every day. He never thought he'd get to fly in one and I really think he enjoyed himself.

His pilot was a genial former fighter jock who left the Marines after ejecting at low altitude from an A-4. The two of them flew along the coastline and did some acrobatics.

As we were leaving the airfield, I apologized to my Dad for the cramped space in the back seat because of the babyseat. I said I would be happy to get that thing out of the car eventually. He said, "don't rush it. Next thing you'll know she'll be forty years old and taking you riding in an airplane. You'll wonder where the time went and how come you didn't do so many things..." That's close to an exact quote. It was tinged with sadness and even now it's hard for me to remember the tone of his voice, as if he had regrets for things we as father and son didn't do.

Don't worry Dad, you have always been my hero. You have always been a giant to me. There will be no regrets from me as long as we are both still here. And there is still time to do things, the only difference now is I get the bait, gas up the boat and make sure there's lunch in the cooler these days and you just come out and hop in...

I don't mind. It's the least I can do for my father. And who knows? Maybe next time you'll do the loop. Maybe next time we'll land that monster redfish or trout. It doesn't really matter--just like my little one, I'm happy just being with you regardless of what the activity is.