“I don’t want to fly on a plane,” my 8 year old son said for the umpteenth time. We were gearing up for our annual trip to San Diego to see my sister, a vacation that is always reserved for the week before school starts. Usually we drive – just my son, daughter, and me – on the road for 8-10 hours, our playlist of CDs providing the soundtrack of our roadtrip. But because of the lameness of our Aerostar Van, there was no way our car would make the trip this year. So instead of saving a bundle of money to do something fun in San Diego (the zoo, Sea World, etc), we spent it on an expensive airplane ride that guaranteed to get us there in an hour and a half. And I suppose it’s worth it. The fact that I won’t be wasting two days of my trip on driving is worth it alone. 

The price wasn’t too bad either – $69 each way per ticket. I have very rarely taken the kids on trips involving flying because it is rather expensive. But this time I checked the rates on Southwest and jumped on buying tickets when they reached $69. Following a friend’s advice, I bought the tickets and then vowed to not check the rates again in case they went down any more. I didn’t want to regret spending more than I needed to. But days later, as incredibly predictable as it was, my mom called me and told me that I should buy the tickets now as they were $49 apiece. Do the math…. I overpaid $40 plus tax for each roundtrip ticket. That could have been a nice dinner out, or some new clothes for the kids, or a massage for my sister and myself, or several days of boogie board rentals…… But I couldn’t think like that. The money was spent, and that was that.  And because of the expense, the vacation itself would consist of free activities, like sitting on a beach.  And honestly, that was just fine with me.

But now my son was sitting in the backseat of the car on the way to the airport, telling me that he decided that he really didn’t want to fly in a plane. I was very sympathetic to his fears. I listened to his concerns over the possibility of crashing, and with his sister’s help I pointed out how low of a chance crashing in a plane really was. I admit, as well, that I told him he was far more likely to crash in a car than in a plane. It’s a true statement, but upon saying it I am uncertain just how helpful it is to tell him he can die from something he does every single day.

Truth be told, I could understand his nervousness all too well. Secretly I have a lot of the same fears. Flying makes me nervous. My mind naturally works overtime as I think of all sides to a situation, including how I would react if we did find ourselves in the situation of sitting on a plane that was going down. Would I be one of the hysterical passengers, losing all my wits as I put all my energy into screaming bloody murder? Would I remain calm and remember to tell my kids how much I love them in our last few moments? Would I be determined to be one of the few survivors, making sure to take all the right steps to get my kids and myself safely out of there? You know, morbid stuff like that (am I alone here?). Sure, that kind of thinking is useful if you actually find yourself in a precarious predicament. But it isn’t exactly helpful if you are trying to calm your nerves.

We made it, of course. I tried to push all the thoughts of survival out of me as the airline attendant with the plastic smile showed us how to put on the air mask and pointed to all the exits. I detached myself and focused on catching a little shut eye as we rocked and rolled over waves of turbulence. I let my son lean on me, reassuring him that everything was going to be ok even as he was feeling nauseous from a stomach full of butterflies (oh thank you, the powers that be, for not letting him throw up in my lap!). But as the plane descended and we saw the bright lights of San Diego getting closer and closer, even my son lost his feelings of apprehension.

“That was fun!” he exclaimed as the plane touched down. “I can’t wait to fly on a plane again!”

We’ll be here in San Diego for a couple more days before our plane ride home, enjoying the warm ocean waves and warmer weather. My sister is being all too kind in letting us camp out at her house, though I can see her cringing at the various piles of suitcases that are evolving into mountains of unfolded clothes. Yesterday was body surfing in the waves of Pacific Beach, today will be hiking and tide pooling in Torrey Pines.

I hope every one of you is enjoying the last few moments of summer vacation in your own way!

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