Clouds

Some of my earliest memories were of watching the clouds past by on long flights, cuddled up against the coarse MAS blanket, nose stuffed and congested, eyes puffy, ears popping every now and then, but masked by some sort of sweet soothing music that Mak had put on my headphones to distract me from various in-flight discomforts.

I didn't particular like long flights, but it's always something special if your Dad's the one piloting the plane. You get to sit in the cockpit during take-offs and landings (remember, this was way before 9/11 happened and airlines started imposing all sorts of safety rules), stewardesses could never be nasty to you coz you're the pilot's baby and you get to sit first class for your yearly free tickets. But the most amazing and awesome feeling was being awestruck at how important and amazing your Dad's job is. Being the "head" of the flight, a daughter would get the illusion (or "delusion" to be more precise) that her Dad is the most important thing / person ever in the airplane.


Gosh. I miss those clouds. I took this picture during our Sabah trip last year to remind me to not take these sort of things for granted anymore.

Dad'll be retiring from flying in 3 years' time when he turns 65. I bet he'll miss those clouds even more than I do.