A Tale of Three Skydivers

As I sipped coffee this morning, Don and I mused over the weekend - the skydiving weekend.

While we'd discussed it in length already, I still wasn't prepared when he said, "You know I watched that guy fall, right?"

The enormity of it all sank in again. For not only did my boys and I go skydiving this weekend, we jumped out of an airplane the day after two divers collided in mid-air while we waited in the hanger for a flight the day before.

The story is all over the news: Beloved Father Killed In Skydiving Accident (11 Alive) &
Marietta Man Killed in skydiving incident in Polk County (AJC)

 While the young man's life ended last Saturday, our intersection with his began last May.

Sam, Courtney, and Nathan stayed in Atlanta this summer. The first in many. Since we haven't taken a trip without extended family in years, we decided to be intentional about making memories this summer, even if just close to home. 

Nathan's first suggestion? Skydiving.

Having just undergone my third spinal tap at the end of May, something in me snapped. "Let's do it," I blurted, overly confident. Why not? What did I have to lose? My body continues to betray me little by little. Why not have some fun in the mean time.

An episode of severe hip pain left me doubting my resolve just two weeks ago, however, and I planned to bow out with grace. As we parted ways after a recent meal, I asked, "Are you ready for me to make skydiving reservations for Labor Day weekend?"

Affirmative answers flew my way.

"OK then," I continued, "I'll figure it out tomorrow."

"Are you going to do it, mom?" Nathan asked.

"No," I sighed, "I'm concerned about..."

With that, animated explanations interrupted my flow. Nathan and Sam almost spoke in unison, with hand motions. Amazed by their adamance, I drifted back in time to the day they pleaded with me to go down the Cliffhangar with them at White Water.  A different kind of bonding occurred between this formerly widowed mom and her little men as we climbed the nine story platform. And Sam still remembers (and laughs at) my hesitance to take the plunge. But I did. And it mattered.

I turned to Don as we drove home and said, "I have to do this. I have to skydive with my boys. I don't know if they need it or if they know that I need it. Maybe it's a little of both. But I have to do this."

By mid-morning the next day, I'd made reservations through groupon.com for Skydive the Farm. And the wait began. I wasn't nervous or scared, rather divinely calm.

We arrived at 2pm last Saturday, expecting to take flight. After signing our lives away we sat in a large hangar where I heard a woman talk on the phone as if someone had been hurt. Within the hour, all flights were cancelled due to weather concerns. But after we rescheduled and drove off, Don called me from his car to say that while we were in the office, he overheard a conversation implying two jumpers had been seriously injured.

We passed three emergency vehicles a quarter mile down the road. A blue parachute lay just beyond the trucks, confirming Don's suspicion. An internet search proved futile. So we arrived Sunday at noon, not knowing exactly what had happened.

So I asked. Right after we checked in, I asked. The women behind the counter first informed me that a diver had undergone back surgery and would be OK. His fingers and toes still worked. But I knew two divers were involved. So I replied, "And the other?"

"He didn't make it."

Her calm demeanor defied the heartache inside. And it soon became clear that the entire staff was working to hold it together; to go on with business as usual.

Don wasn't with us the second go round so I called him, "One of those guys died yesterday."

"Does that make you nervous?" he asked.

"I don't know. Should it?"

"You'll be fine," he said with a resolve that settled lingering concern.

So when they called out our names not long after, I geared up with my boys.

There are so many cool details, I could write three blogs about the experience. For now, I'll just say I hope I get to do it again some day. The view was obviously spectacular. The best vantage point I've ever enjoyed. My instructor, Chuck Staten, and videographer, Mike Davidek, did a great job keeping me calm as the plane took off - with me seated right by the open door which was not closed until we were about a mile in the air.

The world stretched out far and wide, providing a perspective unlike any other. And I knew God was after me to trust Him in new ways. To rest in His promises just like I hung in that harness. If Chuck could get me to the ground, couldn't God safely walk me through however many days and nights are left for me on earth?

I'm writing a book I've talked about writing for years. I started it this summer. Will finish by the end of the year. It's a little scary, like jumping out of a plane. What if no one wants to read it? What if no one likes it? What if I spend all this time coaxing words from my soul to no avail? What if I jump out of a plane, collide with another, and my parachute doesn't open?

Jumping the very day Chuck and his cohorts grieved the loss of their friend reminded me that there is always risk when you jump. Always. But man I'm glad I got pushed out of that plane. Floating above the clouds, and even right through one, makes breathing a little easier on earth.

What I didn't understand until this morning was that Don actually saw one of the divers fall from the sky Saturday afternoon. He witnessed the event. But never blinked an eye at me doing the same.

I've spent a few years battling emotions that have made me want to shrink into my skin. Unable to open. Afraid of more hurt.

But my boys and Don said, "Jump." God says, "Trust." And I'm the better for having taken the plunge.

(One request... if you enjoy a post, will you comment and share it with others? I need some marketing help. And you're the best place to start.) 

And I almost forgot... here's the video link in case you want a first hand taste of sky diving. My instructor, Chuck, owns his own camera that allowed for a much longer video of the experience. 



photo credit: anieto2k via photopin cc