Although I ran away from it for some years, when I looked up and saw a beautiful aircraft, 2 things crossed my mind:
1)"I wish I could immediatly identify the type, just like my father"
2) "I wish I was in there to see the faces of the passengers and guess where they going, are they happy to fly?".
It's beautiful to see an aircraft and think that it is going somewhere and it is taking people to other places, because they need to, because they will reach home to their families, because they will get closer to this business oportunity, because they want to see the world, because they are about to changes their lives. It's a fucking miracle I would say. It's even magical.
My father and my mother-in-law both lived the dream. You don't live the dream anymore, but that's the price when flying thesedays is accessible to almost EVERYONE.
They were both Cabin Crew for a flag carrier, for 40 years, finishing their careers as Supervisors. Again, leaving the dream. They got those fantastic layovers of 7 days in Mozambique, 5 days in Rio de Janeiro or New York city and so many other fantastic ones. And the beauty of it is that the job itself was premium. Top self-awareness, top training, top service. Top class. Always smilin -even if they were dead tired- and always, but always, putting the passenger first. And they were proud about it. They were proud of that flag, and would carry it on both hands every second on duty.
Some people I know -or knew- are dying. Dying young. Heart attacks, cancers, those things I don't even want to think of, it scares me deeply. And then I think, what the fuck am I doing here? Waisting my time in an office for a bunch of guys to get rich? I want to be with my kids, my family, with myself. So many things I would love to do, and don't have the time. Suddenly you can just disappear, and what do you leave behind?
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