Previous Challenge Entry (Level 4 – Masters)
Topic: INSOUCIANT (06/02/16)
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TITLE: Easy Does It! | Previous Challenge Entry
By Marlene Bonney
06/08/16 -
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We were visiting the Space Needle in Toronto, Canada when it first appeared. Climbing up perfectly safe and secure flights of stairs, and as we reached the top of this famous tourist attraction, it became evident when Stan balked at looking out the scenic-enveloped windows there. That was nothing compared to the floored glass large square for people to stand on that opened up the tunneled view all the way down to the bottom of the edifice. He couldn’t bear to look through it, let alone endure me gleefully prancing on top of it. I settled down and drew away from the entrancing danger when I saw an unfamiliar glint in his eyes that spelled, “we are going to have a SERIOUS discussion”—I began to then realize the gravity of the situation—no pun intended.
Over the years, we have adapted to each other’s differences. If I want to go on a zip-line excursion, go on a fair’s balloon-ride, or, say, climb up Mt. Everest and look over its edges, it will be without him participating OR watching—thank you very much. (On the other hand, if there is any kind of emergency situation requiring calm, cool, subjective reactions, Stan has the upper hand.)
His Acrophobic fear of being more than four feet above solid ground is my husband’s Achilles' heel. I’ll never forget his shout when I climbed on a stepstool to reach for a vase in our highest kitchen cupboard:
“Sheila! Get down! I’ll get it for you!” as I teetered there, his yell startling me.
Now, I try to get on a ladder to remove unwanted debris form the roof eaves when he is otherwise occupied. The latest outburst from him was last week when I sat on our upstairs open window sill to wash the outside glass—I almost lost my balance when he ran into the bedroom, sweat pouring down his disapproving face just barely concealing his inner thoughts of arranging my funeral. This fear of heights is the only thing I have witnessed that even his rock-solid faith in God does not appease.
Tornado siren ringing? No problem—just calmly walk down to the basement. Our toddler takes a spill on the sidewalk? Just a scraped knee—he’ll be okay. Fire in the stove broiler? Don’t get excited—just throw baking soda on it. One of the children flunks a test? Don’t worry, I’ll talk to him. Rotted tree falls on the house? Huh, isn’t that interesting? Look at the bird’s nest that it missed! Doctor gives cancer diagnosis? God’s in charge, all will be well. My panic button is pushed by all of these things, but my husband remains cool and calm in their midst. I have to admit that, over the span of decades, I have learned to trust God more and myself less and I do not fret as much, Stan’s easy-going temper also rubbing off on me.
BUT, kitty gets stuck in a tree? Our son climbs up the antenna tower? Our daughter’s ball gets caught on the chimney? Stan is not available for that kind of rescue. Our motion-sensor light attached on a pole attached to the garage roof has been out of commission for years. I have come to the conclusion over the years, that the reason Stan is not fond of birds and positively hates bats is because he is jealous of their fearless soars through the sky.
We have tried all kinds of therapies, including the exposure to gradually moderated heights, which has worked somewhat so that now we don’t have to sit in the bottom row of a bleacher and we can actually take a plane to visit our children and grandchildren. However, since now I have been diagnosed with vertigo . . .
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I sympathize with Stan. I am not very fond of heights myself. Hopefully, the doctors will find a cure for your vertigo, or, you have a fireman as a friend.
Congratulations on your EC.