Standing at the edge of a cliff, I gage the expanding swell of a wave as it pushes its apex up the rock wall. If I catch the surf at its highest, I jump about thirteen feet. If I miss it, I plunge twenty-five feet or more. I’m wary. When the water upsurges to its maximum, I push myself off the edge, hold my nose and drop. I grew up immersed in the neighborhood lake most of my childhood, playing water games, diving from docks and boulders, swimming for hours. As I hit the water, the ocean’s cold embrace brings back my ecstatic feelings of youth. Luckily, I’ve leapt far enough that I’m not shoved back against the rocks, leaving a scraped hulk for my adult son to rescue. Success.
I share a fun day at my son’s favorite cove on Oahu, so picturesque, Pirates of the Caribbean used it as a film set. The inner reason I hurl myself into space is, at age sixty-eight, I want to prove I’m not an old fogey. I persuade myself and him that I’m young enough to share some thrills: which also leads us to go parasailing, an experience that mimics the process of death. Having worked with hospice patients for six years, I have an inkling.
Secured in a flimsy harness, the sail furls and I feel the wind tug me toward the back of the boat, the launch pad. My foot scrapes along the boat’s surface as long as it can, then reluctantly lifts off as I’m pulled aloft. I have no choice but to completely let go, to submit to nature’s forces swirling around me. What am I doing here? Where am I going? Once again, I demonstrate I’m not over the hill. But could this possibly be worth the terror? As I fly into the air, my knuckles literally white, I clutch the fabric straps that hold me, swaying in the gusty breezes. All at once, I look around and I’m struck by the silence and the blue world. The horizon disappears as ocean and sky blend into pure azure beauty, a divine space where I hang suspended, a part of the whole. I hope this is what death is like because it’s more than worth the horror.
I bet cliff jumping and parasailing are building up my courage as I practice letting go into the unknown, perhaps preparing me for the final plunge.
Real Life – Real Laughs:
Humor When You Need It Most
Cate Burns’ thirty-eight non-fiction stories of heartfelt humor explore society’s foibles and personal snafus with insightful zingers that will delight readers. Burns casts an unstinting, cock-eyed look at personal change, friendship, sanity and courage.
“Absolutely LOVE the descriptions in this work. Very, very, very clever and, dare I say it? -unique. This is refreshing, funny, inventive and delightful.” -Sharon Whitehill, Ph. D.
