It was just an innocent question from my husband, a few days before my 70^th birthday: “What do you want me to get you for your birthday?”

Usually, I suggest an act of service – something I’ve been wanting him to do for a while – as it is harder for him to say “no” when it is considered a gift. But since he retired, he has been working rather hard on his honey-do list, and nothing immediately popped into my head. “I’ll let you know,” I responded in an attempt to buy a little time to contemplate.

“Don’t wait too long. The day is almost here.” This from a man who orders everything Amazon next-day.

That afternoon I sat down to watch our current favorite television show. Granted, there are so few programs that qualify for that category. However, we have discovered reruns of a show filmed in Great Britain on a channel called DABL which is picked up by our cheap, compact antenna. Escape to the Country features couples seeking to leave a city (often London) for a slower pace of life in the hills and dales of England, Wales, Scotland or Northern Ireland. Love the scenery. Love the historical tidbits. Really love peeking into houses (many of them barn conversions) adorning the countryside. The show opens with aerial scenes of moss-covered mountains and lush valleys. It serves as a visual tranquilizer. Ahhh…then it dawned on me. That’s what I want for my birthday – to soar like an eagle over mountains and valleys. During the first six-minute commercial, I raced to my desk and typed in “hang-gliding.” Bingo! Hang-gliding was available only a few hours away in the Smoky Mountains. I e-mailed the site to Randy with a short comment: “This is what I want for my birthday.”  He responded: “Are you serious?” I responded, “Yes.”

He made all the arrangements. The first opening was three weeks out. I told my sister Elizabeth. She was terrified. I told my good friend Katherine. She was delighted for me. My other two sisters took me out for a birthday lunch. I told them. They seemed concerned (not just about my safety but my mental health as well). With such reactions, I thought it best to wait to tell the children and grandchildren all at once at my birthday party. About an hour before the party was to commence, I decided to make a game out of it. As the children and grandkids arrived, they were given slips of paper on which to write their guesses of what Papa was giving Grammy for her birthday.

I held up the sealed plain brown envelope Randy had prepared with a picture from Thermal Valley Hang-Gliding inside, explaining it was a representation of the gift. Suddenly the room was buzzing with ideas. A few minutes later, I picked up the guesses, one by one, and read them out loud. Several surmised I was receiving a framed photo of Randy (one a glamour-shot) but I reminded them I already had one in the attic. Other speculations included a horse (from a granddaughter who would love to have one), a book, a gift card, and a love note. Three fancied a towel warmer (having heard me express that desire a few times) and several suspected a trip to various places including Costa Rica (where my dear friend Cher resides) and India. But no one hit the nail on the head. Not one guess was a hang-gliding adventure. When I pulled the picture out of the envelope, varied reactions erupted from “Are you crazy?” to “Wow!” Several of the grandchildren looked at me in awe. Most of the older ones were in disbelief. Understandable since this request came from the same woman who hyperventilated on her first trip to India and only survived by promising herself on the Raleigh to Chicago leg that as soon as she disembarked, she would rent a car and drive home to North Carolina. Fortunately, the Xanax the doctor had prescribed kicked-in and the trip became the first of five trips she made to India – but none of them without trepidation about flying – and now…she was flying away with just a canvas cocoon between her and the ground. 

Okay, enough of that third-person stuff. Of course, I am the woman with the life-long fear of flying in a plane, but who has always admired the flight of birds in lofty blue skies. Many a night my dreams have taken me gliding through the heavens, pumping my arms for momentum. In those sleeping fantasies, people would acknowledge my ability to fly and ask me to teach them. I would stand on the ground and wave my arms back and forth for lift-off, then instruct loudly: “Make sure you do not touch the electric wires.” Where do these dreams come from?

When the grandkids and I consider, “What superpower would you like to have?” mine is never X-ray vision or invisibility or even time-travel. Always, always, I would attest, “I would love to be able to fly.”

So last Friday at 5 p.m. Randy brought me to my destination. The single-engine plane that would take the glider up (and let it go) and the hang-glider were ready, as were the pilot, my instructor, and an assistant whose job it would be to make sure I was safely strapped in my “cocoon” tethered by a a single strap to the top of the glider. The instructor, in his place beneath me asked, “Ms. Ruth, are you ready?”

 “I am!” was my determined reply.

Up, up, up. “Snap” went the cord that connected us to the plane that brought us aloft. As it descended back to the ground, the glider was gently lifted by a thermal – a column of warm rising air. I dared to remove my hands from the harnesses I had been grasping and stretched out my arms. I was flying!

To my left was Grandfather Mountain. In the distance was Mt. Mitchell, the highest peak of the Appalachian Mountains. Below were hills and forests and gray bodies of water. Above was an indubitably clear cornflower blue sky; wait, over there in the west was one tiny, wispy cloud. Truly, this was a bird’s eye view.

I looked straight into the camera filming my adventure and greeted the grandkids and children. I’m thinking that if I did not take this video home as proof, they would never believe I went through with this.

But I did. And I am so glad I did. Sometimes we have to challenge ourselves. Go with our gut. Do something unexpected, even when others may think we have lost our minds. Something that has had a place in your dreams and jumps into your heart and you are so sure you hear the words, “Go for it!” 

We landed smoothly, but much too soon. As I crawled out of that cocoon, I didn’t feel a day over sixty. Rejuvenated. Carefree. Relaxed. Amazing.

Looking forward to the next time.

Dear Readers,

I hope you enjoyed this little escape today from the subject of caregiving. We all need a break now and then. If you do have questions or concerns, please visit the archives where topics are listed by category. 

Blessings, Ruth