Come Fly with Me: A Novel

by Camille Di Maio

I have seen much in my life. Traveled to remote countries. Met fascinating people. Eaten exceptional food. And yet I’ve learned that while those moments are enviable, a life of simplicity surrounded by the ones I love is the greatest luxury imaginable.

We are still caught in the shackles of a culture that limits our choices to teachers, nurses, or mothers, though there are cracks in that thinking that widen every day.

We flew many different airlines (not to mention the occasional private charter), but there was something about the Pan American stewardesses that was a cut above. They were the best. To pilfer a Marine Corps advertisement, “The Elite of the Elite.”

It occurs to me that having been reeled in by this lure of newfound freedom, we are, in fact, incredibly restricted.

“And I suppose anything worth having merits some degree of risk. Just think of the upside. We will meet fascinating people. Travel to interesting destinations. Learn something of the world. More than we would from the comfort of our homes.”

The loss not of what had been. But the loss of the opportunity for what might have been.

Without a goodbye, Henry Goodman (what a waste of a last name, if you ask me) scurries toward the front office.

“Better. I promise you. Because even there, there is a way to act, a list of things to see. This, Judy, this is nothing but pure li-ber-a-tion. And how often can you say that you ever get to truly feel like that?”

“I’m telling you, Judy. When I die, I want my ashes to be spread right here on this beach. Then I’ll never have to leave it.”

It occurs to me that 1963 is a strange time to be a woman. Our capabilities are being recognized in new ways every day, but we are surrounded by chivalrous norms that I don’t want to have disappear.

The love of a good man is a sacred thing. But the love of a good friend may be even more so.

I didn’t want to hear it from them then. Logic is not an effective cure for grief. But time did illuminate the truth of what they were saying.

When we’re young, we cling so hard, my dearest, to this earth. With everything we’ve got. Because we think it’s all we have. But loss gravitates us toward the eternal as it looks for meaning.