I am the worst flyer in the world thanks to the flight from hell at 15 when the oxygen masks dropped & people cried all around me. I thought I was going to die that day, and now I do every day I step onto a plane. So grim. My palms are sweating right now just thinking about it. And as you can imagine, I'm the worst passenger ever. Ask my husband & his poor hand. You'd basically rather sit next to a crying baby than me. Or the lady who barfed into a ziplock bag ten times on my flight once. You'd rather that rankness. Trust me. It's bad.
This past weekend, we left our kids for the first time since Louise was born to go to my cousin's wedding Atlanta, and flying without kids only makes this anxiety worse. My wacko brain immediately goes into worst case scenario mode & I picture my kids without parents -- something I'm unfortunately too familiar with. Again, grim. I know.
But this weekend, our flights to & from Atlanta were smooth. Smooth, I tell you. I never say that. And for the first time in my whole life, when were approaching New York City on the flight home, I was actually kind of, well thrilled, to be flying 10,000 ft in the air. It was a cloudless day, and as we approached the city, we flew over Brooklyn and could see our building! where I knew both kids were likely sleeping at the time. We then flew over the Hudson river, where I quickly snapped the above photo of the Manhattan and Brooklyn Bridges. I felt like we were on our very own tour of the city as we kept going north, watching the yellow cabs going up & down Broadway, spotting MSG, then Central Park and Yankees Stadium. It was... cool.
I can only hope this is a sign of a dwindling fear. Or at least a new perspective on flying. Makes me wonder what other fears I have that could turn into magical moments...