It’s crazy to think that a year ago, I was enroute to Montreal and I had to pinch myself that it was really happening. From flying a little two-seater into the cockpit of a jet. I dreamed about it so many times, I lost count. After all you can teach a (relatively) old dog new tricks. And while flying has been such a catalyst for the past 10 years, I always saw it as something that simply happened. Only recently I realized that there were no coincidences. There really never were, and I am incredibly grateful for those who told me to never stop believing. Onward. Forward. (Thank you, Ted Lasso.)
I believe.