My parents were very supportive of my flying (not so much other pursuits) and were willing passengers. My mom bought me a leather bomber jacket to celebrate my private certificate. My Dad was my second passenger which is the point of this post: I was to meet him at Zahn’s, a long-since closed, but very informal, field on Long Island, NY. On short final, I saw him standing next to the runway trying to peer into cockpits of landing planes. Of course, he missed me. When I shutdown and yelled at him to get away from the runway, I realized from his grin just how proud he was. We flew about 5 hours (in a C-150) that day, possibly one of the best days of our lives.