For as long as I can remember I’ve best processed life’s events through writing. Taking pen to paper, and more recently fingers to keyboard, is the only way I can really make sense of things. It is a strange process. Most of the time I don’t even know what will come out. It’s as if my fingers do the talking and I just sit back and listen.
Today is no different. Thoughts swirl thickly in my head and a flood of emotions overwhelm my heart. I’m trusting the blank page before me to sort out the mental chaos and slow the hurried sensations pounding in my chest.
If you read my post on Friday you’ll know Ben’s license skills test was halted after it came to light that he doesn’t have the flight instruction hours required for the course. This delay brings a multitude of complications and although frustrating and discouraging is thankfully not insurmountable.
The flight department swung into action and quickly formed a plan to get Ben back on track. Ben now has two students and will start flying with them asap to build up instructional hours. We still don’t know what will happen if he can’t log enough hours before April 8 when the European regulations change. We’ll just wait and see.
Today, well, today is a completely different story. Walking into the office this morning I noticed I was holding my breath. I let out a long sigh and tried to push any uneasy thoughts aside. Ben also said he arrived at work feeling unsure of himself. Despite our own emotions, the day started much the same as every Monday.
As usual, my boss stopped in after the safety meeting for a chat about the week ahead. He said he would be heading down south to pickup a newly leased B206. Turns out the Academy is leasing the B206 from friends of ours. Amused once again by just how small the helicopter industry is I asked my boss to send our greetings when he picked up the aircraft and texted Ben the news.
Mid-afternoon I opened my e-mail and gasped. I immediately called Ben and said, “Read your e-mail now and call me right back.” When he called back I could hear the smile over the phone line. Ben already knew about the e-mail and was amused by how “giddy” (his word!) I was. Truthfully I was caught somewhere between laughing and crying.
Our friend who owns the B206 had e-mailed my boss and offered to donate the flight time for Ben to get a transition on that aircraft. My boss agreed that with the donated flight hours the school could provide the instruction plus a 10hr ground school course. Holy moly! A turbine transition course for free!
Several times throughout the rest of the day I caught myself smiling and shaking my head in disbelief. In an instant I’d shot from one end of the emotional spectrum clear over to the other. Ben and I both have a profound sense of gratitude. Writing the day’s events here has me shaking my head and smiling all over again. I don’t know what else to say except – Thank you. Thank you, thank you, thank you.