It's not so much where I'd go as is with whom I'd like to share the helicopter ride.

I'd choose my mother. Because I miss her.

Our commonalities are limited. We can't spend 5 minutes together without snide remarks.

But up in the heli we'd go. Soaring toward the water's edge of the Florida sunset. We'd sit close enough to feel each-other's warmth, but we wouldn't touch.

Love by The Beatles would blare at decibels too loud to allow for conversation.

If she did speak, she would remind me of an old argument. Re: Beatles vs New Kids on the Block.

I'd smile. But I still wouldn't admit she was right.