I am NOT afraid to fly.

Ok I am afraid to fly. Terrified of it, in fact. The 15 hour countdown to my Greece trip has started and I'm already starting to get nervous.  Thoughts of impending doom keep running through my head paired with reflection on my life. Did I tell everyone I care about how much they mean to me lately? Have all my life choices been the right ones? Do I need to make amends to some people before I leave? Maybe I should make some calls...

I tried to express my concerns to my dad last night at dinner. (FYI - don’t ever talk to my dad if you want to be comforted about a flight.)

As he sips his coffee he says: “I wouldn’t worry about it too much. If you die, you die. Not much to do ‘bout that. You know takin’ offs the most dangerous part. That’s when things go wrong. Engine might fail or sumthin’...but you know them suckers can fly on one engine...hell, they can take off on one engine. But you know if you crash you just crash.”
White-faced I reply, “Thanks for the talk dad.” He laughs.

Of course, I have heard all the truths about flying - how its much safer than driving, more people die in car wrecks per year than plane crashes, only 5% of planes crash and out of that 5% only 1% is fatal. Look, I get it, OK? Its safe.

The problem is when that giant piece of aviation engineering begins hurtling itself down the runway, my heart starts pounding, my hands sweat and I am in a general state of panic. I look around at all the people reading or listening to their mp3 players and think: are these the last people I’m going to see before I die? (I also wonder why I don’t have an mp3 player; damn I should have gotten one!)

I sit in my seat, twisting and turning in attempt to peek out the window and see what’s going on. I’m like a little kid that can’t sit still. Thoughts begin racing through my head. The last place I want to be in the world is on a plane. What if we crash? What will I do? Will it hurt? What if the plane just explodes? Do you die from the explosion or do you die from plummeting to the ground? How come no one else is panicked? Did they not feel that shake? WHY is the plane shaking? Is that normal? Are the wings still attached? I can’t see the wing...WHERE is the wing? There it is! But where is the engine? Is it on fire? What if it catches on fire? When do they serve the alcohol???

And just when full-on panic is about to start, I remind myself that the pilot and crew probably want to make it safely to our destination just as badly as I do. I take a deep breath. The plane begins to level out and I relax a bit. I sit back in my seat. I can do this. Why was I so worried? The seatbelt sign goes off and I see a nice stewardess coming around to take my drink order. Ah, drinks... This isn’t so bad....


That is, until we hit some turbulence.