I don't like creepy airplane noises. When the bell dings twice and the cabin stewards run up the aisle to the cockpit, intellectually I know that the captain probably only wants a cup of coffee, but I still get nervous.
My first airplane trip took place when I was eighteen years old. I was flying from Michigan to Texas and my parents were so worried about the transfer in Chicago that my father flew with me to O'Hare Airport then flew back home after he'd escorted me onto the proper flight.
From the start I have been a skittish passenger, but some years ago I found myself on a cross-country flight that was the scariest, most turbulent trip of my life. The plane was pitching and roiling and my stomach was churning. Every time we lurched, I got more frightened. And then things deteriorated. It was at that time I promised God that if he could only see his way clear to get me safely home to my babies, I would never fly again. Never! And I meant it, too.
Time passed. The kids grew up, our son moved out west, our daughter had our first grandchild up north and we moved down south. Suddenly, not only am I flying, but I'm flying on tickets paid for by frequent flier miles. Don't get me wrong, I still don't like creepy airplane noises and turbulence still makes me crazy scared, but when I get to choose between thirteen hours riding in the car and an hour and a half gliding through the sky, well, I'll pick the airplane every time.
I can almost hear God laughing.
1 comment:
I've flown 4 times, all alone. Starting to really like the alone time in the sky. I think I should do it more, just to keep my head in the clouds longer. ;op
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