I love airplane rides.
Just the thought of getting on one is exciting to me.
I guess because once I’m on them, I realize I am going somewhere far.
Somewhere different and I end up feeling free.
Don’t get me wrong, I love the city and its bright lights at night.
But sometimes a change of scenery is all I need.
In a way, I love to escape.
Escape the daily routine.
Escape the stress, any drama.
I just want a couple of weeks or days to be free.
Being on an airplane reminds me of all those trips I took to the Dominican Republic growing up.
Reminds me of my grandmother who may she rest in peace.
Reminds me of coming home to her, and a big meal would be awaiting my siblings and me.
Her hugs, her words of wisdom.
I get on an airplane and still think she’ll be there.
In our small town, waiting, waving as she sees the car pull up.
I love traveling.
I love being up in the sky.
I always say I’ll be the cool aunt who visits her nieces and nephews and then goes traveling the world for another couple of months.
The higher I am, the better I dream…