The story begins like a Poe tale "there I was again, waiting, waiting. Waiting in the breeze waiting for a fleeting glimpse. A glimpse of this man. Waiting while the dirt swirled, waiting while the clock counted down. Waiting cameras ready To not miss a moment.
And while I waited I remembered. The hours of waiting I've spent. Waiting on a wall, waiting in the stands, waiting for a phone call. Watching intently while I waited.Watching him pursue his dreams. Watching him fight to succeed. Waiting for him to walk across stage for diplomas, to receive butter bars and wings. Trinkets that have no intrinsic value yet are full of significance representing hours of studying, sacrificing, and hard work.
Finally the roar of a powerful engine signalled the end of today's wait. Today I would catch no sight of his face, but instead snapped pictures of the plane he piloted. I stood with pride as he thundered overhead and yelled to my sons, "there's your uncle!" if this memory of waiting is remembered in their minds and inspires them I will be even more proud. For today, as always, those long moments of waiting were overshadowed by the short moments of greatness.
