Blues

I supposed I have always been fascinated with flying. I often have dreams where I spread my arms wide, run across a field and slowly take off in magical flight. I have never crashed.

But I never loved airplanes. Not like TT. He amazes me. We can be in the house and a plane will fly over and he says, "There goes an F-15. . . " or whatever its name is! He reads flight magazines from cover to cover. Sometimes with tears streaming down his face.

See, his daddy was a pilot, and he took TT flying a few times. Since there were 12 children, time alone with the patriarch was precious little. It seems in that plane was a father-son exchange of a more peer-like nature. TT was affirmed as a man. His dad's heart was open and sharing. Sadly, TT lost his dad when he was only 25.

Part of his tears is over that loss. The other is over losing so much of himself from his health traumas. For medical reasons, he can never be a pilot.

Ten years ago, we moved here to Pensacola, home of the Blue Angels. I will never forget November 1996, standing at the Naval Air Station Blue Angel Air Show with TT, hearts pounding with pride, faces wet with tears as we watched those blue giants master the sky and tight companionship. They fly so close it took our breath away.

As they roared and ripped overheard, we stood in awe and gratitude.

Because we have friends with a beach condo, yesterday we braved the beach air show. Dot and Boyfriend set up a darling "taj mahal" gazebo! Armed with plenty of iced water, hats and sunscreen, we waited.



We waited with all of Pensacola, who never tires of admiring her heroes, the Blues. It is gridlock traffic for hours to get to the beach. I believe close to 90,000 people attend the beach show. It feels like that many cars, parked on top of each other and stuck in the sand! Year after year the Blues dance for a full house.


I am a happy spectator.

Except for knowing that inside of TT is a bird whose wings have been clipped.