Kathleen in the Friendly Skies
Whether at a sidewalk cafe in Paris or on a terrace overlooking the ocean in Honolulu, you can find my mom perfectly content with a cup of coffee. Although I didn’t inherit her addiction to that bitter stuff, she did pass on to me her travel genes.
My mom became a flight attendant in 1976, seniority to be proud of. I have always admired her profession and her ability to pull herself out of the harsh grip of Cleveland winters and start a new life (be it only for 24 hours) in Maui or Rome.
Outside of the U.S., her years in the business have taken her to Canada, Mexico, Peru, Argentina, Uruguay, Brazil, Ireland, England, France, The Netherlands, Belgium, Germany, Portugal, Spain, Italy, Turkey, Kyrgyzstan, China, and Japan. And her travel wish list continues to grow.
Mom always has a story from the air. From telling one man he couldn’t watch porn in his seat, to meeting Michael Jordan, getting an original story from Dr. Seuss himself, or taking troops to the Middle East, my mom is no stranger to meeting new people.
There is nothing quite like the rush I get flying standby with my mom. Call me crazy, but I have been on three separate work trips with her to Hawaii for not much more than a 24-hour layover, all the way from Ohio, might I add.
It’s worth it though. I met a new side of my mom on my travels with her—travel transforms her, as it does me. She may not make the big bucks, but to me she is wealthy beyond my wildest dreams for the piece of the world she has seen.
So, gracias, mamá for being my inspiration to see the world and for making it a reality in my life. I look forward to our next adventure—New Zealand, perhaps? Promise me one thing, you’ll snap a few pictures in Brussels this week for me!