Flying

For as long as I can remember, my mom has refused to fly on an airplane. In July of 1981, my brother and his wife asked her if she would fly to Dallas to give them some help after the birth of their third child. Knowing how she felt about flying, we were all surprised that she accepted his invitation and committed to her first plane trip, by herself no less! Little did we know that Ruth had some tricks up her sleeve. The day she was supposed to leave, Dad came home to drive her to the airport and found her MIA with a note left behind. A neighbor had taken her to the Greyhound Station and she was headed to Dallas on a bus. She had never been on an airplane and had no intention of getting on one. The trip that would have taken Mom less than three hours, took her about 30 hours. But she was happy. She was traveling by bus and not on a plane.

Mom was super content to ride the Greyhound back to Florida, but Dad messed up those plans. He flew to Dallas just so she would have a “flying partner” for the trip back. From what I understand, she was pretty much left without a choice and was not a happy camper on the flight home. Other than say she didn’t like it, she wouldn’t talk about the plane ride and I knew better than ask. That was her only trip to Texas and the first and last time I’ve known of her to do something against her will. I’m sure Dad learned a valuable lesson by the time their plane landed.

Like my mother, I hate flying. Wonder why??? I blame it on her and the way she’s always been about flying. Maybe if she had earned those “frequent flyer” miles and had been a world traveler I wouldn’t be so scarred for life?

Several years ago I figured out that my aversion to flying is more about control issues than anything else. Truth be known, it’s the same reason Ruth refuses to fly. We both have control issues and getting on a plane is putting us in a situation that is completely out of our control. When it comes to traveling I prefer to be in a car where you have options rather than on a plane. You can always stop a car at any given moment, whereas on a plane, there’s no stopping the trip. You have no clue what the flight is going to be like or what you might encounter. It doesn’t matter, you are stuck on that plane for the duration of the ride with no options. You have no control

I’d like to say that I’ve reached the point where flying doesn’t bother me, but it still does. In the past I would be a nervous wreck for days before the flight, have to take lots of meds for the trip and wouldn’t fly alone. Now I get antsy the day before, take very little medication and fly by myself. Each trip has gotten a little easier for me, but I still don’t like to fly.

Just when I had gotten past a lot of my flying “anxieties” I hit a new challenge. Jami asked me if I’d fly out of the Orlando Airport to Dallas and fly back with her and the kids. Just like Mom did years ago, I accepted the invitation, made the commitment and then wondered what I’ve gotten myself into. I’ve never been to the Orlando Airport, but I’ve heard enough to be intimidated by it. Ignorance truly is bliss!

I leave tomorrow and have to admit there has been some anxiety over this trip. I’m working hard to keep it under control. If I dwell on a situation, my mind will take me places I don’t want to go and it can get the best of me. I’m not allowing myself to think about this trip in any way other than it’s going to be an adventure, with the end result being nothing short of an awesome time. I’m keeping my focus on the “carrot” at the end of the trip, fun times with Jami, Matt, the kiddos and Brandon. To top it off, I'm going to get to visit with one of my favorite childhood friends that I haven’t seen in over 38 years!

Most of all, I’ve figured out the best cure for the jitters. Greyhound Bus= 30 hours. American Airlines=3 hours. Unlike Mom, Greyhound is not a consideration!