When I was a child, I dreamed of becoming a pilot. In my elementary yearbook at Fatima Canossian College in San Pablo City, I wrote it down proudly: “I want to be a pilot.” I was only in Grade 4 then, but the fascination with airplanes and the thought of soaring above the clouds had already taken root. That dream never left.

As I grew older, life had its own flight plan for me. Through my high school years in Ateneo de San Pablo, I held on to my dream of flying. But nearing graduation, the realities of life began to weigh in.

Entering college, I found that an aviation course was beyond our family’s means. To ease the burden on my parents, I sought a scholarship — and that led me to the University of the Philippines Los Baños (UPLB), where I pursued B.S. Agriculture, major in Economics. It turned out to be one of the best turns in my journey. UPLB offered not only quality education and a beautiful campus but also opportunities that shaped my character and values. I was blessed to receive scholarships from the Laguna Provincial Scholarship Grant and the Philippine Sugar Institute (PHILSUGIN), which came with a modest stipend.

Later, fate stepped in once again — this time through a different kind of gift. At UPLB, I met Annie, who would later become my wife. My dreams of aviation had to take the backseat as we built our life together. Soon, I was working at the Philippine Business for Social Progress (PBSP), the largest business-led social development organization in the country. The pay was modest, but the work was deeply fulfilling. It was there that I found another kind of calling: helping people help themselves.

The experience opened my eyes to a greater mission. Guided by my Jesuit education’s motto — “A man for others” — I realized that true success lies in service. Like my father, who treated his farmworkers with dignity and compassion, I wanted to create opportunities for others to improve their lives. That desire eventually took shape in the organization that I founded in the 80s, which eventually became the Center for Agriculture and Rural Development Mutually Reinforcing Institutions (CARD MRI).

Over the years, I devoted my energy to helping build institutions that empower the poor and marginalized: CARD MRI, Microfinance Council of the Philippines Inc. (MCPI), RIMANSI for the microinsurance industry, RESTART ME to help MFIs recover from disasters, Microfinance Information Data Sharing Inc. (MIDAS), International Cooperative and Mutual Insurance Federation (ICMIF) Foundation, and many others. Each was born from a simple desire: to help people uplift their lives and break free from poverty. I may not have been flying airplanes, but in many ways, I was helping others learn to fly — lifting them toward hope and opportunity.

Still, that childhood dream quietly lingered in my heart. I thought it had faded with time, but it only waited for the right wind to lift it again.

That moment came unexpectedly in 2024, during an international conference of the ICMIF in Buenos Aires. There, I met retired Generals Gilbert Llanto and Jovito Gammad of the Leading Edge International Aviation Academy Inc. (LEIAAI). When I mentioned that I had always wanted to fly but was already too old, General Llanto smiled and said, “Even your grandmother can fly our plane.”

His words reignited the spark I thought had long gone out.

And so, in January 2025, I enrolled at LEIAAI and began my student pilot training. I immersed myself in intensive theoretical courses and flight simulations, took my radio and medical exams, and prepared for that one unforgettable moment. In my late 60s, on April 23 — just a day after my birthday — I took my first supervised solo flight.

The feeling was indescribable. The roar of the engine, the lift beneath the wings, the sight of the horizon — everything I had imagined as a child was suddenly real. After 37 logged flying hours, I could finally say: I am becoming a pilot. Like I dreamed, many years ago.

Dreams do not expire with age. They may be postponed, redirected, or reshaped by life’s responsibilities, but they never truly disappear. They wait patiently for the day when your heart is ready to chase them again.

I may not have taken the traditional route to the cockpit, but perhaps this was always the right flight path. Along the way, I learned that helping others rise is another way of flying. And now, as I continue to reach for the skies — both literally and figuratively — I carry this message for my fellow seniors:

It’s never too late to dream again.

If there is still something your heart longs for, take the leap. Because age is just a number — and the sky is still wide open.