Note to the reader: Thank you for joining me as I share my story of “Snorkeling : The Epic Flipper Rescue,” relating it to my journey in aviation, reflecting on how my family got to where we are today. There were struggles, sacrifice, times I did not think we would make it. There were twists and turns, epic adventures, and devastating situations. Yet, here I am, refined by the fire of the adventures, the chances we took, and the lessons learned along the way. Thank you for taking time to read this piece of our journey. Enjoy!
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We were in Guam in the spring of 2024 when we took a snorkeling excursion. We donned our gear and waded out into the warm water. For Christmas the previous year, we took a family snorkeling lesson at the local dive shop in Denver, Colorado to prepare for our upcoming trip to Guam. The lesson was exceptional for our whole unit including the kiddos, ages nine, eleven, and thirteen. Remembering all the things we learned in class, we practiced clearing our masks as we waded out into the bay.
The location was called Fish Eye Marine Park in Piti Bay, Guam. The salinity of the water made floating easy, like astronauts in space, as we drifted out in the shallow water. We were ready to go to the deeper area where there was an above-water observation deck. Below the surface, there was a feeding receptacle to attract fish for visitors to view from the observation deck above. This was perfect stop for beginners to see a variety of fish.
As we made our way out to the platform-observation deck in the water, our youngest, Walter, lost his flipper. I helped find the flipper, reattach, and readjust the buckle for a snug fit on his foot.
We floated along, pointing out Zebra fish and more in the underwater world as we went. We marveled at the coloration of each fish. They looked like swimming flags from around the world as they effortlessly glided through the warm, comfortable, salty water.
As we arrived at the observation deck, we dove below to get a closer look at the underwater world. I was in awe. These fish drifted around the waters daily in their neighborhood, while people travel across the world to see them. For the fish, it was just another day in the ocean. I took in the moment, marveling at the simple, complex ocean around me. I pondered what it was like to be a fish, surviving in the salty water and I wondered what they thought of us, aliens, to their subsurface world. I resurfaced, floated a bit, checked on the kids, and peeked below the water again to observed the ocean life below.
As we were about ready to go back to the shore, Walter shrieked, “My flipper fell off!” I noted he was safely floating, bobbing in the ocean. In an instant, I looked below the surface and saw the fin, sinking fast. I took a breath, dove below to reach it, and missed! Coming up for another breath, I resurfaced, inhaled, and dove, like it was my life’s mission. I kicked hard, diving as deep and fast as I could, as the rubber flipper quickly sank to the depths of the ocean floor.
As if I was in a slow-motion-movie, the ocean around me became quiet, my vision focused on my goal, and you could have cued intense music in that moment. I kicked, concentrating as I narrowed in on my target. I felt the pressure getting greater on my body. “This was definitely deeper than that pool we learned in,” I thought as I pursued the seeming unfathomable situation, I found myself in. The pressure continued to increase on my body and my lungs were nearly out of air; I was almost there. Determinedly, I wanted to save the flipper. I had not come this far to miss it! As the pressure continued to increases and I realized I was nearly out of air, I grasped the flipper, just in time. Instinctively, I reversed my course, surface bound. I saw the surface coming closer…closer…almost there. I made it!
Surfacing, I gasped for air, breathing in a sigh of relief and gratefulness in accomplishing the epic flipper rescue. I did a great “duck dive” down, just like they taught us in class back home. It was something the dive instructor would be proud of. I breathed deeply and steadied my breathing rate. Walter followed me over to the observation deck where the rest of our clan was waiting for us and resting before going back to shore again. Walter was grateful for my assistance in the flipper rescue and I was a bit astonished in my own badassery in the event. It really was pretty epic; I even surprised myself.
The event replayed in my mind, like a highlight reel after a sports event. We could have told the local dive shop where we lost the flipper and the scuba team could have gotten it on their next outing, but we recovered the fin and have a great story to tell in the meantime. I think fondly of that moment in time and the lessons learned from it.
Looking back at the event, I think about my journey in aviation and where we are today. My husband recently achieved his ultimate career goal in the fall of 2024 and there were so many challenges and adventures along the way.
There were many times I instinctively took a chance, figuratively dove deep, and was nearly out of breath at any one point in our mission to get to where we are today. To support my hubby’s dreams and career, mine went on the backburner. I made that choice for myself in each step of our journey.
We are a two-pilot household. By the age of twenty-five, each of us had been laid off once and we had a one-year-old toddler to care for at the time. With the reality of aviation’s fragility, we knew we had to build stability, diversify, and have a plan for raising the family.
After being furloughed and laid off from a flying job, I decided that I wanted to be home with the kiddo, expand our family, and raise them. Many women make the choice to parallel their partner’s career, fly, and raise a family simultaneously. I chose to work part-time as a Certified Flight Instructor (CFI) and then eventually stayed home full-time.
I wanted to be with the kiddos and it is a decision that was right for me and my internal knowing and desires for our family. It is not right for everyone and only a choice each individual family unit must make for themselves.
To get to the major airlines, our path took us through a gamut of aviation opportunities including flight instructing, corporate aviation, teaching in simulators, international flying, and finally to a regional airline, which would set us up for my husband’s dream job at a major airline. It seems we did it all in aviation. Each step in our journey was the right step at the time, even if it seemed like an insane endeavor.
When we went to the regional airline, we made impossible math work on a one-income regional pilot’s salary. My husband’s base pay was merely enough to pay the rent in Virginia and our landlord did not want to rent to us based on the numbers they saw on paper. We made an agreement to pay six months of rent up front and then for the first six months, we would pay rent monthly. By six months into our lease, our first year was paid in full.
For our household to operate, pay the bills, homeschool the kids, and more, our budget involved taking $1,000 per month out of savings for the first year, followed by replenishing that money into savings the following year. We did the math to figure out how to make the available salary work. I planned to be home with the kids and homeschool to have a flexible school schedule so we could enjoy family time my hubby was off on the week days.
We did the math and it was a gutsy move. It was a tough two years and money was tight for us. It felt like we lived on pennies and paid out dollars. We got exceptionally good at budgeting in the process.
We did not have any family locally and only a couple friends located over half an hour away when we moved to Virginia. We planned and worked together to accomplish our goal. We could afford to-go pizza twice a month and it was a real treat. I still love pizza and think fondly on the times of sacrifice we made to get to where we are today. Each sacrifice and decision prepared us for the unknown path ahead of us.
In that time, I remember having conversations about finances with the children who were ages four, six, and eight at the time. We were very open about our budget with them, sharing how much money we had for groceries and eating out. There was zero money in the budget for unplanned outings unless my hubby was able to pick up an overtime trip, which meant we saw him less than 48-hours that week. There was a lot of solo parenting, spaghetti nights, taco Tuesdays, and simple fun like taking a walk or going to the park.
Those experiences built resilience in our unit and we went forward, refined by the hardships.
I remember the conversation with the children about a friend who asked for our kids to join them at Taekwondo. The price was around $200 for one kid to participate monthly. I shared with my children our whole budget and that if they all wanted to participate, we would not be able to buy groceries that month. We paid rent, bought groceries, and gas, there was no extra money for the class. So, while I would have LOVED to say, “YES!” to them, I was concerned that they would want to eat. We had to decide what we wanted to do as a unit. They all decided that food was more important and that when we could afford to do lessons like that, they would really like to.
It wasn’t easy telling the kids the honest truth about finances, but they knew that we were working together as a family to get to where we wanted to go, a major airline. The team effort never went unnoticed. The children became aware of budgeting and learned the importance of planning and finances. They began to become aware how money worked and learned to save for what they wanted to purchase or participate in.
As the children discussed the future possibility of Taekwondo, I listened to the children’s enthusiasm as we sat on the floor of the bedroom in our cozy townhome. There was only a bunk bed, which fit snugly against the wall near the window of that tiny room. Little did I know that living in cozy quarters would prepare us for a future of living on the road in an RV for three years, which is something I did not have on my bucket list, but loved once we were living the nomadic lifestyle.
(Some photos of our beloved first RV. We renovated the whole thing including flooring, paint, furniture and decor. We made that 35-foot house on wheels a home we lived in for our first year on the road. We loved every ounce of it. We eventually upgraded to a 5th wheel, sold this RV to a friend, and eventually then downsized back to this RV when we became part-time travelers. (This RV was totaled in a hailstorm in storage in the summer of 2023. We were sad to see this beautiful home leave us for the last time. We made so many memories with it and it was a safe haven for us as we launched into full-time travel life.) Our time on the road was a sacred time for our unit. We took time to regroup as a family, bond, and reconnect. Many people have social media channels and we did not have one to follow our adventures publicly during that time. We took that time to cocoon and recoup. I took time to be still, write, and enjoy life, wherever the road literally took us.)
All that to be said, dear friend, it’s been a long, hard road to get where we are today, literally and figuratively.
There’s been many sacrifices from myself, hubby, and the kiddos. There were times I felt like I was running out of air emotionally as I reached for the proverbial “scuba diving flipper” goal we were striving for. In each phase, I had to learn how to come up for air, build my tribe, and find myself in a deep dive as we reached for the goal we were going after. In the process of getting to where we are today, I shed layer after layer of what I thought I wanted and where I thought my life was going. I learned how to be my whole self and evolved as I went.
The kids changed me and so did life experiences. I evolved into who I am today based on my experiences.
We were destined to be nomads for a few years and live an unusual life outside of the American dream of the day. We had the big house, yard, and neighborhood in Kansas. We gave that all up to downsize and move across the country, away from family and friends. We made new friends who we call our family in the process. We were never alone, but we were lonely at times.
Sure, my partner and I have had our ups and downs, and sometimes more downs than ups. In every phase, we found our center, our breath, and were able to continue in our journey as a unit.
There were times I thought we would not make it. And yet, here we are, taking one day and decision at a time.
Just like that day snorkeling, we assess each situation. We take a breath, dive, reach, miss, come up for air, take another breath to dive deep, to reach for what we are going after and achieving what we set out to do. In this journey, dear friend, you are not alone. I’m there with you, even when you think you’re running out of air, remember there are scuba divers near and they have a full tank of air if or when you might need them.
As Dory says in Finding Nemo, “Just keep swimming.”
PS: Even if I had missed the flipper, I am glad I took the dive, the chance. Life is full of opportunities, chances, and choices. Take each opportunity, one at a time. You may be surprised what you learn or gain in the process.
PPS: If this blog was helpful for you or might be for someone you know, please share it with them. Thanks!!
