Tuesday 29 November 2011

Something In The Air

I’ve always wanted to learn to fly.


Aeroplanes, that is. My favourites are the ones that look the most dramatic and are not necessarily the fastest. I’m talking the Tornado F3 and the Spitfire.


Pilots, it seems to me, embody three main personality traits. Truth, passion and courage. Truth, in that they must never let themselves be fooled, or think they can do something they can’t. Passion, because they’ll talk the hind legs of a donkey about a pitot tube. And courage, because they trust themselves, and their skills, to allow them to be at the mercy of a single propeller.


For years, I’ve kept an eye on a website which offers the whole course in France. It was offered by an English woman, who had set herself up in a place she described as ‘Nearly Heaven’. I was inspired.


The thought was beautiful to me. Flying toward a blue horizon, with stunning landscapes and glaringly strong sunshine, a blend that makes my heart sing. For a similar feeling, listen to the song ‘One Day Like This’ by Elbow.


But, life gets in the way. Family, writing maths books, money…they are the priorities. This year though, I felt I’d carved out enough money and time for this little jaunt to France for 2 weeks next summer.


I visited the site, and launched an enquiry, stating what dates I could do and how I was looking forward to it. Then I noticed the last blog post. An entry by her daughter. "Sadly, at 8.50am today, my mother passed away".


Her "wings permanently clipped".


Further entries announced the funeral and many, many well-wishers.


Then, the eulogies. All about an amazing character who touched everyone she met and lived life by her own rules.


A woman who was the first female jockey in England. She had to overcome prejudice and being whipped mid-race by other jockeys.


A woman who, after a horse-related accident, was unable to walk for 3 years. A woman who, when she found was unable to walk, decided that was the ideal time to get her commercial pilot's licence!


A woman who was the only female English instructor in all of France. Again, she had to overcome prejudice in an all-male environment, having to be "better than the men" to prove herself.


Now, I imagine, she is flying in the blue skies of heaven.


Until last night, I did not even know what she looked like.


Coincidentally, a documentary about English people living in France was aired last night, and they featured her, shortly before she died. Her joie de vivre, passion for her profession, and satisfaction she had at overcoming these obstacles in her life, easily came across.


So, it is with deep anguish I announce this bit of wisdom. Do it now.


I never met this woman, but she sounded like someone I would have liked and admired. Her attitude to life was amazing. And now I’m regretting I didn’t share that attitude.


Maybe her spirit is in those blue skies over France. Maybe I will find it if I fly there.


I regret I will never meet her.


Unless I make it to heaven.