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Day 126

Updated: Jun 26, 2019

On my flight over, the plane hit some turbulence. I used to fear that I’d be in a plane crash and be eaten by sharks. Then a friend explained that the crash would happen at hundreds of miles an hour, so I’d certainly have been pulled apart by the time I hit the water. Somehow, that was supposed to comfort. More strangely, it did a bit.

I haven’t been on a transatlantic flight since Constance passed. When the turbulence shook the plane, the belt light went on, and the captain asked everyone to sit down and buckle up.

At first, I thought, “Should I pray? Do I believe in God? Do I believe in a god that hears prayers? God certainly did not answer any prayers for Constance. I’m not more important or more loved than I was.”

Then I looked at my cup of coffee jumping around on my tray and thought, “If my body is about to be pulled apart by a plane crash, I will wish I had wine for breakfast instead of coffee.”

The captain took the plane to a calmer altitude, the turbulence stopped, and I finished my coffee.


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Jul 19, 2018



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