The Goodbye Girl

Or; why I fly 5 hours, (that's 2,133 miles according to http://www.convertunits.com/) to spend one night in a Newark, NJ hotel with my airline pilot husband, then fly 5 hours (yep, another 2,133 miles) home ... alone.

When I say I'm flying to Newark to overnight with my husband Keith, and will be home the next day while he flys off to some far off place, I'm usually met with blank stares or something like; "what the heck for?" I could say it's because I like the pizza in New Jersey (Bruno's - yum), I could say I like hotel romance, I could say I enjoy the occasional (make that rare) upgrade to First Class on Continental Airlines ... and all of that would be true. But the real reason I do it, is to spend those few precious hours with my husband.

Home life is a nonstop crush of schedules and committments, of school bells and student pilot training, of expectations and deadlines. But the 5 hours on the airplane to Newark, even if my husband is asleep in the seat beside me, and the ten to twelve hours alone with him in a New Jersey hotel room are a gift beyond compare.

For those few hours there are just two of us. There are no one elses wants and needs more important than our own, there is just my husband and me enjoying the quiet of a small New Jersey hotel room as we sip our Coke-a-Cola's and eat our pizza, and share a few hours of husband and wife talk.

Then all too soon it's over, and I'm re-packing our bags in preparation of going our seperate ways. I take his dirty laundry home with me (no sense in him carrying it to China and back), and we grab a quick cup of tea before the van takes us back to Newark Airport. My job as the Goodbye Girl is about to begin.

At the airport there is just enough time for a late breakfast or early lunch, then Keith is due in the weather room. There, as he meets the rest of his flight crew, he pours over weather reports and route charts and begins in earnest his work as the professional and dedicated pilot I so admire and respect. He will inevitably introduce me to the Captain and the IRO's (International Relief Officers) flying with him, but it's my job to stay in the background, quietly observing but beaming with pride. That man, the one discussing impending turbulance and route diversions with such experienced authority ... that man is my husband ... imagine that.

I always schedule my return flight to depart after Keith's plane leaves, so once he's through in the weather room we head to the gate where his airplane awaits crew and passengers alike. I find a quiet corner in which to wait, while Keith goes down to the plane to "load the box", a pilot's expression for loading the route and flight data into the airplanes computer.

It's not long before my husband is back at my side, asking how the loads (seating) look for my own flight, and what I plan to do whilst he's away. Small talk fills the next few minutes, but it's what we don't say that hangs so heavily in the air. That we'll miss each other. That I wish he could retire tomorrow. That I hate goodbyes.

All too soon the gate agents begin calling row numbers, filling the plane with passengers. Keith hugs me, telling me how much he appreciated and enjoyed my coming all this way for such a few small hours. He reminds me it'll only be four days and then he'll be home again. In my mind those four days might just as well be forty-four. One more lingering kiss good bye and it's my husbands back that's disappearing down the jetway. But not before he turns around one last time and using the ASL sign for "I love you" - blows a kiss to his goodbye girl.

I wait at the window in the boarding area as all the passengers board, the door is closed, the jetway is wheeled away from the plane, and the supertug begins the slow push of my husbands' beautiful jet towards the runway. One last kiss blown back and forth, one last "I love you" hand sign, one last prayer asking God to keep him safe, and he's gone.

My job as the goodbye girl is over ... until the next time I pack an overnight bag and follow my pilot husband 2,133 miles to Newark New Jersey for a few precious hours with the man I love.

Why do I do it? Because to do otherwise would be to rob us of that time together. Because my husband seems so much more relaxed when I'm saying goodbye to him in person than over the phone. Because it makes the man I adore feel loved and special. And that he is.

Lori

Where does inspiration come from?

It's a question I've asked myself hundreds of times. And I think I might, just might, have an answer.

Inspriation is everywhere. It's in nature; a flower, a bird, a sunset, the ocean waves crashing on the shore and your footprints in the wet sand. It's in the wise face of an old person sitting on a park bench. Inspiration can be found in your local garden center, on the golf course, while waiting for a bus, out walking your dog, or petting the cat curled in your lap.

The truth is, our world is full of inspiration that we "see" but don't really notice. So how DO you take notice and find your inspiration?

Here's a project I was challenged to do this month, and that I want to pass on to you - it's called "Thirty Days of Pictures" and here's how it works; for the next 30 days, I want you to keep your camera handy and take at least one impromptu picture every single day. If you can take more photos ... do! And don't skip a day just because you took extra pictures the day before. Take pictures everywhere! Inside and outside your home, on your commute (not while driving however ... safety comes first!!!), while you're waiting for your pedicure to dry, while you're waiting for the children to finish their Little League game, while you're waiting for your airline pilot husband's commute flight to arrive. Even from your hotel room window. SNAP PICTURES!

I carry a very small, very light weight Fuji Finepix Z digital camera with me at all times. Some days I'll take numerous pictures of the same exact thing at various times of the day and evening. For example, right now I'm in Houston Texas waiting for Keith (my husband) to finish up his check-ride. I'm in the Marriott Hotel at Intercontinental Airport overlooking some of the Continental Airlines gates. Yesterday I was fascinated by the ballet of planes as they were moved into and out of the gate area. From my hotel window I took several photos around two in the afternoon, and shot more photos at sunset and shortly after the sun had set.

The point of this exercise is to teach us that there's a big, beautiful world moving past us at break-neck speed and we really aren't capturing it all. By shooting pictures for the next 30 days you'll train yourself to really take in your own wonderful world. It's my understanding that this same exercise is often used to teach people to become better photographers. But my own goal is just to help me expand my personal idea of "inspiration". I hope it does the same for you!

Because my blog is new, and to encourage more of you to give this exercise a shot (pun intended) I'm going to sweeten the deal. Here's how;

Starting today (August 5th 2009) and running for the next 30 days I challenge you to shoot at least one picture every single day and at the end of 30 days (that's the 4th of Sept), to email me one photo that has personally inspired you. It might be a photo that inspired you to plant a garden, or help the homeless, or adopt a shelter animal. It could be a picture that inspired you to take up a hobby, renew an interest in a craft you used to enjoy, or simply be a happier person. Whatever it is, send me your most inspiring photo. All entries must be received by me not later than 11:59pm Pacific time on the 4th of September. Email me at lola.az@gmail.com

On September 11, 2009 I will post the picture I believe is the MOST INSPIRING PHOTO I've received and the person who submitted that photo will receive a prize. I promise the prize will be something "inspirational" and fun from La Petite Pilot.

Are you ready? START YOUR CAMERA'S!!

Welcome!

Welcome to La Petite Pilot, the home of aviation themed decorated apparel including baby bodysuits (think onesies) and t-shirts (adult/children/infant).

La Petite Pilot began as a kitchen-table hobby with the single intention of making t-shirts for my airline pilot husband. Well you know how it goes, first a friend sees as wants one, then another friend sees and wants one, then the nice man who owned the pilot shop at Deer Valley Airport (DVT) here in Phoenix saw them and thought they might sell in his shop. That lead to me making a couple dozen t's for adults plus a few kid-friendly ones and a half dozen onesies (Gerber's) all with aviation-themed verbiage and graphics.

I admit it was a shock to learn Mike Hosa over at DVT even wanted to see my designs, after all, it wasn't meant to be a business ... just a time filler for a sometimes lonely pilots wife. Now here I was agonizing over designs and colors and wondering if anyone would really buy them.

A year later, here I sit, having been picked up by a leading national distributor of aviation-related goods; AeroPhoenix, who supplies pilot shops at more than 200 airports across the United States. Yesterday, I delivered my first order for AeroPhoenix; a gross of baby bodysuits (think onesies) under my label; La Petite Pilot.

This blog is my lead in to what I hope will eventually become my website. Check back often for photos of my work, news on where my baby bodysuits are available for purchase, and news in general.

I hope you enjoy my work as much as I've enjoyed producing it! - Lori