Previous Challenge Entry (Level 4 – Masters)
Topic: GET COLD FEET (10/12/17)
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TITLE: Up, Up, and Away! | Previous Challenge Entry
By Marlene Bonney
10/18/17 -
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ADD TO MY FAVORITES
I smile a silly grin, recalling my 60th when they celebrated with a triple-layer cake, a mass of birthday candles that melted the frosting, along with a fire extinguisher—just in case.
“Morning, sweetie,” my husband of fifty years joining me in the bathroom, “did you sleep well?”
This, of course, is a standing contest between us, competing over the number of nocturnal aches, pains and visits to the lavatory, even as we figure out who got the least hours of restful sleep. Hubby, at ten years my senior, usually wins.
“Oh, and Happy Birthday!” which do you want this year—a backrub or a foot massage?”
I choose the foot massage, as he expects. After decades of a God-blessed, committed marriage we often even complete each other’s sentences. . .
I am grateful the kids and grandchildren have only one present for me. I have no more space to put anything new. At this stage of life, I am trying to get rid of things—excluding my hubby, of course.
“Open your present, Mimi,” our autistic grandson flaps his arms, a typical indication of his mounting excitement.
Inside the gaily tissue-laden gift bag (suspiciously light), I find a bright yellow small envelope.
“What have you kids done now?” noting the mysterious smiles lip-rimmed with excitement wherever I look.
Even the adults are sitting on the edges of their seats, anticipating I don’t know what. The 5-yr. old grand-twins are popping up and down like jack-in-the-boxes gone berserk as I break the seal: ‘This entitles bearer to one hot-air balloon ride with The Flying Angels’. Definitely NOT a standard gift card, and I futilely hope it’s a joke.
“Yea, Grammie—you can wave to God while you’re up there!” an undisclosed little voice pipes up.
Hubby turns while around the gills, his fear of heights an unconquered malady. I look on each loving, expectant face and cannot bear to disappoint them. . .
As the weeks approach “D-Day,” I think of a dozen reasons why I can or cannot spend this impossible certificate, ‘Maybe I can’ battling ‘Never in a million years!’
I research the hazards of hot-air balloon riding over the internet. Aug. 1, 2016 headlines scream out at me, ‘Saturday’s balloon crash the most fatal in U.S. history.’
Never in a million years. . .
‘The Flying Angels is a reputable hot-air balloon ride company with proven safety records with pilots having a minimum of 500 hours experience and are FAA certified.’
Maybe I can. . .
‘There are some inherent dangers that could potentially lead to a crash—excessive speed when landing the basket, a collapse of the parachute-like balloon after a mid-air collision, and coming into contact with power lines.’ Really?!!!
Never in a million years. . .
‘Hot-air balloon riding is the oldest, safest form of aviation, a tired-and-true 230 yr. old tradition enjoyed by hundreds and thousands of passengers and millions of spectators a year.’
Maybe I can. . .
‘Hot-air balloon are very sensitive to the weather. Windy or unstable weather conditions can easily end in tragedy.’
Never in a million years. . .
‘Novice hot-air balloon riders claim the floating in mid-air is the most serene, pleasant and awe-inspiring experience of their lives.’
Maybe I can. . .
Ultimately, I decide to take the plunge to experience life in a new perspective. The entire family--plus a prayer-support group from church, joins our entourage like a pioneers wagon train caravan. We all watch, fascinated at the process as the crews attach the burner system to the envelope, inflate it with a powerful fan and blast up the burner flame.
At this point, I take one look at the flamed burners and the nylon-ish fabric as flimsy as an old threadbare silk nightgown, and the rocking basket and almost loose my nerve.
“Aw, Mimi, come on; it may be your last chance. You’re pretty old, ya know!”
This is the catalyst I need. Like a reluctant groom, I mince into the waiting basket while Hubby tightly clutches his barf bag.
I enjoyed it immensely! (Maybe sky-diving will be on the agenda for my 80th!)
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