The Airplane Analogy

I went through a rather long phase of being unable to fly...on an airplane, of course. The very thought of boarding a plane would nearly cause an anxiety attack. My fear really stemmed from the thought of free-falling - something happening to the plane mid-flight, and then having all sorts of seconds to think about the impending crash as we hurled to the ground. It was such a horrible fear that I had even vowed I would never fly ever again unless it was an absolute necessity, a matter of life or death. Thankfully, I was relieved of this debilitating fear through a single hypnotherapy session - it sounds crazy, but its true. In reality, it was very liberating to not only be able to fly again, but to actually enjoy the flight and even be excited about boarding a plane.

Over the last two years, I had to do quite a bit of traveling for work. While it was pretty exciting to live the 'jet-setter' lifestyle and have the opportunity to travel to conferences all around the country, slowly, my anxiety started to return. There were a few instances of really bad turbulence and flying through lightning storms. I had an extreme case of claustrophobia when seated on the aisle and having the shades on all windows within my view drawn down. Once again, I dread travel by air. On one of my last flights, I was finally able to analyze a connection with just a deep down repulsion to feeling completely helpless. Once the plane is off the ground, i have no control over what happens. I'm strapped in for a ride, speeding ahead with no way to stop it. This helplessness, charging forward into whatever lies ahead, reminds me of life and the inevitable end that awaits us all. There is nothing we can do to stop it, we just have to strap in.


When I was little, I used to have a deep-seeded fear of death. At night, I would have these moments of panic, which my mom helped me to term as 'bad thoughts' when I would actually have the thought that someday, I am going to die, and I would immediately start to hyperventilate and cry. I remember one night in particular, curled up in my mom's lap, sobbing, as she rocked me back and forth. I remember telling her, "But I don't want to die." Even now that I'm older, I still can get myself to that place have clarity, realizing that there is an end to my life, and it makes my breath catch and my heart race. 

In the short span of 20 months, there have been five significant deaths in my life. Seeing firsthand this eventual end of life has helped me to grasp the reality and connect with the true notion of death. I've seen the effects of old age and disease, both of which have some layer of comfort in preparation. When someone you love is diagnosed with a terminal disease or beginning to succumb to the effects of aging, you get the chance to savor ever moment together from then on until the end comes. Of course, it doesn't make the loss any less painful. The experience of a completely unexpected death is a bit more traumatizing. No warning, no preparation. This element of surprise has given me a totally different perspective to ponder and internalize. You always hear about tragic accidents, but it's not the same until it happens to you.

Regardless of the way it happens, the reality of death remains. I understand that I will see the passing of many more loved ones, and I acknowledge the fact that it will be difficult every single time. I also know that my own death could happen at any moment, and I must ensure I do all that is within my power to make the most of each second I have in life. To love, to explore, to learn, to fly.

Dad, Daddy, Father

  

Since yesterday was Father's Day, it seems only appropriate to write about my dad. I feel extremely lucky to have grown up with a great father who would do anything and everything to spoil his daughters. As an adult looking back on my childhood, I recognize just how much he provided for us, and I also realize there must have been many, many sacrifices that both my mom and dad must have endured. The most obvious sacrifice was the fact that my dad continued to work in Southern California after we had moved to Oregon. He would be gone for weeks at a time, driving back and forth numerous times. Even though I have clear memories of him being gone a lot, it seems like he was always around when it mattered. Horse shows, ballet recitals, school performances...he was always there. I'm sure there may have been times when he couldn't make it back for one event or another, but those aren't the times that I remember. It definitely speaks to his dedication, love, and support. And whenever he was in the audience at one performance or another, he was always videotaping. I am so extremely thankful for his constant video documentation of our life. It's very meaningful not only to have recordings of all of these events, but to know Dad was behind the camera and capturing those moments was also special.

I also have really great memories of family outings, vacations, and parties - now that I'm grown up enough to know my dad a little better, I can only imagine how much he didn't enjoy the crowds and chaos, but it never showed. We were a very busy family, always involved in the community and different organizations that required a lot of time and effort for both parents. I have a great appreciation for the memories we created together and, again, to have my dad so involved. And I remember the little things, too, like the bedtime stories or helping with homework or playing card games. His reading of "Mr. Skinny" will probably always be one of my favorite childhood memories. He was always quick to be silly and make me laugh. He was also stern and set great ground rules which I know contributed to my success as an adult (I'm sure my sister would have different memories of the rules, but she was a different teenager than I was *wink*). It really means a lot to me that every time I call home and talk to him, he always says, "Say hi to JC for me" before I hang up. Knowing that my dad cares about my husband may be a little thing, but it's really pretty huge.

My dad is also extremely handy and has built and fixed many things. I remember when he made standards for jumping our horses, and when he created riding areas at two different houses we lived in so we could effectively ride at home. Horse riding was definitely a big part of my childhood, and it was always a special treat when Dad would ride with us. 

I've been trying to think of my favorite memory or a really great story to tell about my dad, but truly, it's the overall "dadness" of him that just makes him so wonderful. Everything all wrapped up into a bundle of love, caring, and protection. I wish I didn't live so far away and could spend more time with him (and mom too, of course!).  But there's something pretty great about knowing he's proud of me and sharing in my accomplishments. I love my daddy very much!