Should I take that risk?
The thought swirls around in my head like the alligator and dead fly smoothie I make my kids drink when they’re high on sugar and low on veggies. Around and around it goes until the greens are sufficiently masked by berries and bananas.
So it goes in my head. I slide the rope through two points in my harness and finish the figure 8 knot, tucking the end in. My fingers graze the slight indentations and prickly crystals of granite that will sink into the sticky rubber of my shoes.
It took me four times to be able to see them. Those tiny features that would hold my weight. It looked so flat at first. Then as if I had some magical 3-D glasses, it came to life and the features sprang forward.
It’s a risky sport, like most, even when done slowly and properly.
I take the risk anyway.
Just like when I get behind the wheel. A risky move, but I take it slowly and properly. Phone is stowed and eyes are fixed on the road ahead. I control only my car, but share the highway with so many others I can’t control.
I take the risk anyway.
I drink Diet Coke, I choose chocolate over veggies, I climb rocks, and I share my heart openly.
I tell my friends I love them. I send messages with a red heart. I write without filter or shame.
It’s all so risky. But I take it anyway.
When he was diagnosed with advanced stage cancer, I asked for every test imaginable. I was so afraid to move to the left or to the right, because I might get cancer and die too.
Standing under a shredded umbrella in the pouring rain is no way to live at all. We can choose to toss the umbrella, stay in the rain and splash and laugh and become soaked with serenity. Or we can stay inside, stay dry, and stay seemingly safe.
I choose to take the risk. I choose to feel the exhilaration at 1200 feet above ground. I choose to drive more just to pick my kids up from school, knowing that I’ll have to turn back around and leave for work all over again. I choose to toss the umbrella and dance in the rain.
Some say that living is the best way to honor your late spouse.
I say living is the best way to honor…you. 💙
#laughterafterdeath #lookingintherearviewmirror #itsme #lifebeginsnow