It was the one thing he coveted the most. Sitting in the box rested a picture covered in dust. The picture consisted of an older man of about 75 with his arm around a young boy of probably 5 or 6. Behind the two in the picture was a plane. The little boy was now grown into his early 20s, reminiscing on old memories with his Grandpa. The picture caused flashbacks to when the two went flying together….”My Grandpa would pick me up from my porch. My mom had packed me a lunch for the day. I would hop into his beat up old pick-up truck and buckle up sitting to the right of my Papa. We would drive for around 15 minutes before we arrived at the secluded airport. Airport would be an over statement. This “airport” consisted of a large empty field and one landing strip. My grandpa owned a small, nice plane. He would prepare for the flight, testing the engine and the controls, while I carried our lunches and jackets into the plane. Once we were ready we taxied out of the garage and onto the landing strip. We started slowly and then gained speed and then more speed until we were suddenly in the air. My head pushed back against the headrest on the passenger seat. We were hundreds of feet above the fields. We were on top of the world. My grandpa and me. We flew and twisted and turned. My grandpa would set me on his lap and let me hold the steering grip. He showed me all of the controls and tricks of flying. When it was finally time to go home we approached the landing strip. My grandpa was concentrated and each move he made was skillfully executed. When we returned to the ground there was only a slight bump and then we sped down the runway into a gradual brake. These were the fondest memories I had with my grandpa.” He put the picture carefully back into the box and then set that box back into the glove compartment in the passenger seat of the plane. He then grabbed onto the controls of the plane and prepared for ascent.