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Journal

My Home

I feel like I’ll never get there.  Home felt like mittens and being wrapped up in sweaters.  It smelled like pot roast and dryer sheets, was lit up with candles, and only missing one thing –  ,

I’ve worked for years to become the person I wanted to be.  Someone really deeply connected with people who love me back.

I don’t know how long or exactly what form my story will take.  Whatever it is, I know it’s a love story about flying.  How flying changed my life, and believing that my biplanes loved me back, saved it…and helped me to find my way home.