The Sky is Falling

Er, no it isn't. That's my husband and daughter!

That's what I was thinking last Thursday as I stared up into the sky and saw two little dots. Something was definitely falling from the sky. Just moments before, I had seen the airplane in which my husband and daughter were flying. And now there were those two little dots, getting bigger and bigger.
Finally, there was a burst of "big-ness" and that's when I started breathing normally again.
Because that is the moment I knew the parachutes had opened, and two of my greatest loves were going to live to see another day.

The crazy thing is, all this drama was intentional. That is, my husband and daughter jumped out of a perfectly good airplane - on purpose.
In other words, they went skydiving.
The adventure for Elizabeth was a graduation gift from her aunt and uncle, and she has been looking forward to it for years. Brian jumped, too, because he couldn't bear the thought of not getting in on the fun. And I? Was given the option to jump, but I couldn't imagine myself hurling toward the earth at 120 miles per hour spending that much money, so I chose to stay on the ground and observe.
And, honestly, I was super excited for the two of them. I knew how much they were looking forward to the insanity adventure, and I was happy to see it take place. BUT - just as honestly - I did have a feeling of concern which was relieved as soon as I saw that parachute finally open up. Something about knowing two of the dearest people in your life are racing from 10,000 feet above the ground at 120 miles per hour (Don't know why the instructors had to repeat those statistics so many times. If not to make a wife/mother nervous!) does a number on your nerves and imagination.

In the end, both Brian and Elizabeth were ecstatic. And given the chance (and the money!) I know they'd do it again in a heartbeat.

And, maybe I will, too. Maybe. *wink*