When He Flies

I’ve been missing papa lately… bigtime. If my dad was alive, I know he’d be so delighted to fly. He might even enroll as a pilot at his age. My father has a heart for extreme adventures. While my siblings and I were still babies, he’d ride us in his motorcycle and buy us bicycles even before we could walk. When I was in grade school, he allowed me to ride alone and explore neighboring towns.

Growing up, he made us ride in choppers and light aircraft, flying inside the jungles of Mt. Province. He made us swim in rivers, ride in boats, and travel in ships. He made me hike, camp, sleep in the cold, and survive the wilderness. He allowed me to get lost and find my way home. I remember how his face would light up when he’d oftentimes show me videos of his ultra-light experience. When I started paragliding, I would always imagine what his face would look like when he’d fly.

Before he died of cancer, the last plan we talked about was me applying to be a crew in the Doulos Ship after graduation. And then he died and I started my own adventures alone.

Today, one very close to my father’s heart flew with us. And the smiles on his face made me cry so happily inside.

And the rest of his family flew with us too. The joy on their faces was heart-warming.

Now I’ve been crying since all night. What will make these tears stop falling? I think a new motorcycle. 😛


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