taking off and landing.

i hate needles and getting shots at the doctor. but whenever i muster up the same courage that i had to conjure up as a five year old, i have to watch the needle penetrate my arm. for whatever reason i do a lot better watching the needle than i do squeezing my eyes shut, and squeezing someone else's hand even tighter. it makes no longer receiving a lollipop and a colorful band aid tolerable....almost

i'm the same way with taking off and landing during flights. to me, it is the most these are the most terrifying parts of the flight, but i HAVE to watch. today i flew to florida. what seemed to be an obnoxiously chatty 64 year old woman was not only sitting between me and the window, but also my mp3 player. the chat seemed trivial until the seemingly pointless banter revealed that she had lung cancer. suddenly, the wit of ben folds and the symbolism behind the indie artists occupying my playlists could wait.

she told me she really shouldn't have been flying at all, but that she was determined to see her grandkids, for what very well might be the last time. as the awkward uncomfortable distance between strangers dissipated and we became more familiar, i wanted to learn more. i think i may have learned more sitting next to this woman for an hr and 27 minutes plus minor delays than i have at my institute of higher learning. the 64 year old woman told me her husband nearly had to amputate his leg because of a condition he recently developed upon retiring. she, a devoted smoker for 42 years, had not surprisingly developed lung cancer, also upon retiring. the surprising part? the doctors said this particular strand of cancer, which she discovered through nerve ending pains in her jaw, aren't related to smoking. i assured her that with the current state of the economy i won't be retiring at all, so i'll be safe from her apparent curse. i also shared that my grandfather learned in part about his brain tumor through a routine eye check up. her grandson discovered the same fate at a much younger age. i assured her that with the current state of the economy i won't be retiring at all, so i'll be safe from her apparent curse.

she also told me that scarier to her than chemotherapy was the fact that she hadn't flown since 1996. as she was terrified of the her 1996 journey, i was biding my time until recess memorizing graham llyod's ERA and imitating my sister. and now our paths were crossing.

normally i don't find it comforting to think about dying on an airplane. but this older woman with her whimsical aura had a cloudy prognosis but a fantastically optimistic attitude. she drew the metaphor about taking off and landing. she beat me to the metaphor--a startling observation in itself. she noted that i, a twenty something, was truly just taking off, ascending into "the real world," post college years, and that she was landing, living old enough to see her great grand kids. and that was good enough for her. she also reminded me that between taking off and landing lies the journey. (this is when i took the metaphor back). as heavily as i contemplated the emo route of life's journey having no emergency exits or oxygen masks, i was too inspired by this woman to give into that crap.

but turbulence. THAT i can get behind. between take off and landing there is a whole lot of turbulence, changing speeds, and mini dips and dives. and as long as you manage to get through the journey, even with hyperventilating and/or the use of a barf bag, you will land safely...maybe even on the hudson river.

-k.

oh. and happy easter =)