We were on the plane from Newark Liberty Airport home to St. Louis on the last leg of our trip from Scotland. It had been a long and difficult traveling day for both of us, but especially for Bob.
I leaned over, patted his arm, and asked, "You OK?"
"I'm worried about this plane."
"It'll be just fine. We're heading home. No problems."
"I'm still worried."
I let it drop and went back to reading. Sometimes all you can do is just worry.
A few minutes later, he leaned to me and asked, "Who's driving this plane?"
"Who's driving this plane? Do we know him?"
I assured him that it was a good professional pilot (even though I'd noticed that when he made pa announcements, he sounded like one of my 17 year old students.)
Another few minutes, "I really mean it. Who is driving this plane?"
Don't ask me why, but I replied, "Not to worry. Remember, Bob, my dad was a pilot during WWII."
He was fine the rest of the flight.
I have a feeling that my dad will have quite a career in a variety of professions :)
Surprise (come along for the ride)!!
6 years ago