I choose to write about the first time I took to the skies. My photo was taken in December 2006 during my very first airplane flight. I was sixty years old and had never been west of Kansas City, Missouri. I had made many trips to Lambert Airport to drop off or pick up someone but I had never been on an airplane myself.
Then suddenly on Monday at work I knew, with no uncertainty, that I had to make a trip to California and could not waste any time getting there. During my lunch break I went home and got on my computer and found the best price for a round trip ticket leaving early the next morning. But, why was I in such a rush?
I belonged to several singles websites back then and a very nice man from San Diego had contacted me on the Friday after Thanksgiving. We emailed for a while then we started to talk on the phone each night after I got home from work. It was the best 16 days of my life. Then on the seventeenth day the gentleman told me that he had promised to have a first meeting with a lady he had been talking with for some time. The date for their meeting was coming up soon and he wanted to be honest with me.
I just knew that I had to meet him first and there was not much time. I was working the 2 to 10 pm. shift four days a week. It was Monday and my three days off were coming up. I had to move quickly before I talked myself out of going. So with the ticket purchased I called my guy as usual when I got home. I asked what his plans were for the next day. Then asked if he could meet me at the airport. He was surprised but agreed.
I packed and made the one-hour drive into the airport. Put my car in long term parking and headed for the check-in counter. My flight was scheduled to leave at five AM.
At 4:40 I placed a call to one of my sisters, getting her out of bed. It only took a minute for her to come fully awake when I explained where I was and what I was planning to do. She was convinced I was going to California to meet an ax murderer or worse but she did not have enough time to find a way to stop me. I promised to call her that evening and headed for my plane.
I was so excited (and nervous) that the flight was over before I could calm down. I had no problem spotting my gentleman waiting at the end of the ramp as promised. The Old Salt was much better looking in person than in the photo I was carrying. Those three days seemed like minutes. I returned home to start making plans for a return visit in January. The following March the Old Salt packed all his worldly goods into a Toyota Yaris and as we made the trip from La La Land to my small town in the heart of the Missouri wine country we stopped at a small wedding chapel in Laughlin Nevada long enough to be married.
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