Guest Post: Chasing Airplanes with My Brother
My sister writes:
When I think back to our childhood, one theme rises above the rest—airplanes. Or rather, my brother’s love for airplanes. From the time we were little, he seemed born with this uncanny instinct for the skies. While I saw tiny silver specks drifting across the clouds, he saw Boeings and Airbuses, aircraft sub-variants, airline liveries, and flight routes.
There’s one moment I always remember: we were standing in our home garden, and I pointed at a plane that looked like just a flying dot to me. He squinted for half a second and declared, with full confidence, the model and airline. I stared at him like he had superpowers… and honestly, I still think he does.
If he wasn’t outside spotting planes, he was inside playing flight simulator for hours. I was so certain he would grow up to be a pilot. He even did a secondary school research project on airline safety—so intense, so detailed, and so impressive that I remember thinking, “Wow… he is so clever and he REALLY loves airplanes.”
Our parents fuelled that fire from the start. Our dad would drive us to the quiet roads near the airport so we could sit there watching planes thunder overhead. The airport viewing mall became our shared happy place. Later, when we were older, my brother would bring me to the terminal, and we’d spend hours side by side, looking out for the choreography of arrivals and departures like it was the world’s greatest show.
One of my earliest memories is tagging along with our grandma when she used to bring him to buy model airplanes. I had no clue what was going on; I just followed because that’s what younger siblings do. Eventually, when he could go alone, he still brought me along, with $50 in hand, into this mysterious world of aircraft models where he could banter with sellers like an equal. He knew every detail: wingspan, version, engine type… Meanwhile, I wondered how he became this walking airplane database. This was the days before the internet exploded with information!
And then came the day he promised to buy me a model airplane.
He told me I could choose one from the models he was buying, and I picked the Air France plane proudly. But once we got home, he said I could only play it on his room floor. Looking back, that was peak big-brother behaviour. To be fair, I probably earned that restriction… considering the time he let me play with his model airport and I, well, may or may not have broken something.
Despite all that, childhood with him was magic because I got a front row seat to watching him chase his passion.
And today, nothing makes me happier than seeing him share that same love with my son. Seeing the two of them piloting planes on the simulator together, or hearing him explain aircraft models with the same spark he had as a kid fills my heart with such warmth. It feels like our childhood coming full circle, but even better.
