Up In the Air

I surprised Tanner with an introductory flight lesson last Sunday because he’s always wanted to be a pilot and because I’m on a constant mission to make him think I’m fun and brave. I’ve not always been one to take even the smallest of risks, but it seems this drive to win the best-wife-of-all-time award (surely there is such a thing) has turned me into a mad woman.

I contemplated the chances of surviving a plane crash as we drove to the outskirts of Annapolis on Sunday. I smiled in my yellow sundress and hopped into what looked like a hundred-year-old Cessna with some combination of numbers in the name (I don’t do numbers), and I silently prayed that God would forgive this sudden wave of impulsive tendencies that have recently washed over me as we took an hour-long flight over the Chesapeake Bay.

I have to admit it was beautiful. And the flight was somewhat relaxing once I stopped looking for something to hold on to. It turns out there’s no point in grabbing for support in a plane because, as the instructor so kindly pointed out to me, “Everything is already in the air.”

We were definitely in the air. And, when one is as high in the air as we were, it’s as though nothing else matters but keeping one in the air. You can literally leave all your worries behind because one thought occupies your entire being in a plane. Don’t crash.

Needless to say, we survived that flight and ended the day’s festivities in downtown Annapolis with the best chicken and waffles mankind has ever known. I was feeling queasy and downing iced tea the way others might chain smoke cigarettes, but Tanner was so happy, and I thanked the good Lord for having mercy on my bleached head and my shameless need to impress that really cute guy sitting across from me.

All joking aside, it really was a great experience—all of it. The flight was truly amazing, and the chicken and waffles were only mildly (and arguably) better.

Birthday celebrations over, we’re back to the regular humdrum of daily life. Tanner goes to work. I sit in my home office and work sporadically, taking intermittent breaks to run or make a pot of tea or sneak in a 15-minute power nap. It doesn’t sound particularly exciting, and that’s because it’s not. We’ve moved to a new place with new people and new jobs and a new home, and for a while we were up in the air with nothing to grab hold of. That was both scary and fun, but now it’s commonplace, and we’ve made a new home that is comfortable and (dare I say it) boring at times. And while I love a good adventure as much as the next hobbit, I’m happy to just sit on the ground for now and enjoy the peace and quiet until it’s time to go back up again.


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