Document text
Ashland, Oregon HOME Valley & State Sports Nation & World Opinion/Editorial Classifieds Business Columnists Local Issues Obituaries Weather Archive Revels Etcetera Backpage Hot Topics Most Viewed Forum Photo Galleries Video Readers Polls O-Zone Online Games Movie Preview Special Sections Real Estate Guide Menu Guide Shakespeare Subscribe Contact Us Rate Card Place an Ad May 8, 2006 Tales From The Crib The many fears of flying Jennifer Margulis By Jennifer Margulis Tidings Correspondent “Cross your fingers that you don’t get into a plane crash,” my daughter Hesperus, who’s six and a half, says in a matter-of-fact tone as we drop her off at school en route to the airport. “I will,” I call after her. I can’t help thinking as I watch her small form disappear that I might never see my daughter again. As eager as I’ve been to go on this trip, I already miss her with an ache that brings my heart into my mouth. Of course I know the statistics. The brief drive to Medford with my two younger children in the car is more likely to result in an accident with fatalities than my cross-country plane ride to New York City. Still, flying terrifies me.With a small group of other passengers I waited once to board an airplane on the tarmac of Lagos, Nigeria. As I watched airplanes scream overhead and rumble down the runway, my fear of dying in an airplane crash was replaced by a fear of being killed by a falling airplane. Danger reminders It doesn’t help that every time you board a plane you’re reminded of the danger involved. “In the unlikely event of a decrease in cabin pressure,” the flight attendant begins in a bored voice. It’s a script to her and I’ve heard it so many times I can recite it by heart. But that doesn’t stop my palms from sweating or my mind from imagining yellow oxygen masks, dangling like disembodied horses’ hooves in front of me. I can feel myself panicking because of the “slight burning smell” as I choke on the cold oxygen “Your seat cushion has been designed for flotation,” the attendant continues. I examine the cushion as I have examined the cushions on hundreds of flights. The ingenuity of the designers! The frigidity of the water! If I wear my coat will I better withstand the frigid ocean temperatures? We aren’t flying over the ocean but that’s where my mind goes. Travel, yes — flying, no Except for flying, I love to travel. I love the thrill of the unknown. I’m an extrovert with an introvert’s job. As a writer, I commune with my computer or my paper and ballpoint pen. But when I travel—this time to a conference of the American Society of Journalists and Authors—I get to meet dozens of other writers and editors, to say nothing of the Russian sitting next to me whose wife is expecting a son after having two daughters, or the flight attendant whose grandmother from Okinawa ate tofu every day and lived to be 104. “I don’t want you to go,” Athena, who’s five, has tears running down her cheeks as I haul my luggage out of the car. Now that I live in Mommy World, I rarely travel. I haven’t gone this far alone since a consulting job sent me to France four years ago. I know James will take good care of them, and they’ll all enjoy the Daddy Time. Still, I don’t want to leave either. As Athena holds on to me, I feel tears spring to my eyes. She kisses the palms of my hands and I kiss the palms of hers. The turbulence terrifies me and I pull my seatbelt as tightly as I can across my lap. I hold my hands up to my cheeks and think of Athena’s kisses. Our plane comes in for a bumpy landing, jerking against the uneven mountain air in Denver. Flying is like labor, I decide as I release the breath I wasn’t aware of holding. It’s terrifying, but when you land safely the fear is instantly behind you and the pain feels worth it. Jennifer Margulis, author of “Why Babies Do That,” will be joining three other contributors to read from the new anthology “It’s a Girl: Women Writers on Raising Daughters” at 7:30 p.m. on Thursday, May 25th at Bloomsbury Books. --> Copyright © 2006 Ashland Daily Tidings and Ottaway Newspapers. All Rights Reserved.