Two months ago I joined an online group of older people who meet to go on excursions of various kinds. One person recently suggested skydiving. A week before that I had been sent a promotion for tandem skydiving and, after thinking about it two or three times, I had not deleted it from my inbox. So, when this fellow suggested it, it piqued my interest again.
It seemed like a once-in-a-lifetime kind of thing that appealed to me for a number of reasons. First, the coupon said you had to be under age 65 and I’m 62. So, it has a little urgency for me. Secondly, it was half price! I would not have considered it at the regular price, but they were having an off-season sale. Thirdly, it was going to be at a nearby town here in California. I don’t think there is a skydiving place near my home in Alberta, so the opportunity is not there. It’s here.
I went to the website for the skydiving company to watch a video of someone doing the tandem jump, and I thought, “I can do that!” I had been a bit anxious about actually jumping out of the plane, of course, but the video was quite encouraging. It showed the experts and described their experience and qualifications. It also showed a young woman doing the tandem jump for the first time, and she seemed as confident and secure as a person can be under the circumstances. Having an expert strapped to your back is obviously very reassuring.
I had, in truth, been more concerned about the landing than the jump. From the video I learned that the expert skydiver actually puts his feet on the ground first and the guest strapped to him doesn’t put their feet down until he’s taken a couple of steps. That was a big concern deleted from my list.
So, I bought the coupon, went back to the Meetup group’s web page and signed on for the event. It helped knowing I wouldn’t be driving out to the airfield alone, even if I would be going with strangers. That may not make much logical sense, but it made a lot of emotional sense at the time. As it turned out, though, only the fellow who proposed the idea and I actually agreed to go.
Undaunted, we chatted on the phone and discussed why we were doing this. He was working on his bucket list. I didn’t have a good reason except that it seemed like an exciting thing to do. After that it was just a matter of waiting and building up courage. I decided not to tell my family and friends until it was all over. I thought that if I told anyone beforehand they would talk me out of it, so my plan was to post the picture on Facebook the next day.
Yesterday, the skydiving company called to cancel. There is going to be bad weather next Saturday and they were rescheduling the whole week. They wouldn’t be able to fit me in again for another two months, by which time I’ll be back in Alberta. When the universe cancels your skydiving plans, you tend to take notice.
I’m sorry you won’t see my windblown self on Facebook because I was looking forward to your reactions, but I’ll see if I can think of something else to get you excited about.