Kyle spoke with me at church and gave me permission to share his story:
His mom was a pilot. Loved to fly, love love loved it. Planes, helicopters.
Then she got married, decided to start a family, got pregnant with him… And during the pregnancy had seizures that cost her her pilot’s license. And that was that.
But she still loved planes and she would sometimes take her little boy to the small local airport from time to time to show him around.
When he was 25, he decided he owed his mom and he decided to do something about it.
He called her up one day and invited her to meet him over at the municipal airport. You know, look around, give her a chance to rag on him about who he was dating or not, quality time with her kid (I think he said it was her birthday). Sure.
As they walked around the small planes, he asked her about the difference between the controls on, say, this Cessna here vs… and he opened the door.
Kyle! You can’t just…!
He climbed in.
KYLE! You can’t just… Kyle?!
Hop in, Mom, c’mon, show me!
She knew her kid enough to know he certainly wasn’t going to do something wrong, but this was someone else’s plane and this was going too far and what did he THINK he was…
C’mon in, Mom, here, show me!
She climbed in, started to ask what on *earth* is this about, what are you DOING, Kyle.
Then she looked in his eyes. And suddenly got it. “Did you…!”
Yup. He’d gotten his license, and he’d rented this plane to take her up. Pilot, co-pilot. “Go for it, Mom!”
YEEHAW!!!