Family bonding; the sound of freedom; changing perspectives

Every summer my husband goes to the EAA AirVenture Oshkosh in Oshkosh, Wisconsin. It is a tradition.

He and several members of his very large family go up, tent camping for the week. Yes, I said tent camping. When we were dating, I never was very happy about his leaving me for a week to camp and look at airplanes - I mean, really, how many airplanes does one need to see? After we were married, I was a dutiful wife and camped for one or two nights, using portable toilets, giving up my precious air conditioning and showering in the little plastic cubicle with cold water squirting out of a kitchen sink sprayer.

A few years later, much to my great excitement, the facility got an upgrade and included flushing toilets in *some* areas of the campground! 

As our family has grown, our kids have become indoctrinated to this love affair with airplanes – thanks to my husband, my father-in-law, my brothers-in-law and many nieces and nephews. 

What I do love about the week is that my young daughters will have forever memories of campfires, planes, jokes, planes, hugs, planes, love, planes, tickle-fests, planes, s'mores and, of course, planes. Did I mention planes?

But they also learn independence - bus rides, flight instruction, living without electronics and survival without air conditioning. They see their cousins and watch them as role models. They spend a week living 24 hours a day with their uncles, cousins and their grandfather. It is a tremendous learning experience for them.

That they bond over airplanes – which terrify me – is beside the point.

I enjoy looking at and learning the history behind certain planes. I don’t enjoy the aerobatic displays; it seems not to be such a great idea to do crazy things with flying objects already seemingly defying the laws of gravity.

This year the F-22 Raptor flew overhead. It was insanely loud. I don’t really like loud. It unnerves me.

I was messaging an Air Force Veteran friend about how loud it was and how frightened I was by it, and she immediately responded with, “That is the sound of freedom.”

I love when people unexpectedly put me in my place and change my perspective with the swiftness and dexterity of a well-oiled machine -- er -- airplane.

It is true. While every year this one week is my husband’s dream vacation that I often feel like I put up with because I love the way it brings our family together, that one phrase changed my entire view. For the first time, I realized that the show is not a competition for pilots to show-off their talents and push the limits of aeronautics (well, maybe it is for some). No. There is a rich history of flight here. Moments like these - when the Raptor flew overhead or the Honor Flight left full of Vietnam Veterans - are a demonstration of the strength of our military garnered by those who study the history of flight and constantly work to provide unique aviation opportunities to our Air Force and for transportation for people around the world. The sound that makes me shudder with fear truly is one of freedom.

So, though I don't think I will ever become a pilot, I do cherish these days - days filled with history, love of family and appreciation of this amazing thing called flight.