I’ve never jumped from an airplane. But I imagine that if I did, there would have to be a great deal of preparation – mentally and physically. Then as the day for the jump approached, there would be moments of apprehension and some nerves. I’d worry…”Has this been thought through? Was there anything more that should have been done? Can the chute be trusted? Will I be different when it’s over? Will everything be OK?”.
Then as the aircraft ascends the “jump” would take on a life of its own and things would just happen without conscious action. The plane would climb and level out. The pilot would give the instructor a nod. The instructor would make a few last second adjustments to my equipment and then signal the all clear. Then everyone in the plane would look at me, waiting as I kneeled at the open door and gazed out into the unknown - my mind racing, heart pounding, adrenalin flowing. Then the instructor would roll his eyes at my hesitancy and shove me out of the plane. I’d role and tumble and everything would be a blur as I plummet ever faster toward the earth and I’m all aware but incapable of grasping anything or comprehending everything at once so I’d scream and scream and scream, but no one would hear and everyone would be watching my silent descent from the plane above and from the ground below and I’d be alone in the world for those few minutes except for the buffeting of air and the tugging of gravity and the camera man freefalling beside me to capture every thoughtless expression of emotion and then I’d suddenly jerk upward as the chute deploys...It’s over. Then I’d settle into a peaceful serenity as my brain catches up with my body and it finally registers that everything will be fine. And then for the first time that day I’d smile. And I’d be so happy that the slightest breeze would be capable of altering my movement. And I’d float...and I’d float...and I’d just know that everything was to be better than before – because I jumped…because I trusted the chute.
That is exactly what a wedding is like! I don't know how else to describe it.
Then as the aircraft ascends the “jump” would take on a life of its own and things would just happen without conscious action. The plane would climb and level out. The pilot would give the instructor a nod. The instructor would make a few last second adjustments to my equipment and then signal the all clear. Then everyone in the plane would look at me, waiting as I kneeled at the open door and gazed out into the unknown - my mind racing, heart pounding, adrenalin flowing. Then the instructor would roll his eyes at my hesitancy and shove me out of the plane. I’d role and tumble and everything would be a blur as I plummet ever faster toward the earth and I’m all aware but incapable of grasping anything or comprehending everything at once so I’d scream and scream and scream, but no one would hear and everyone would be watching my silent descent from the plane above and from the ground below and I’d be alone in the world for those few minutes except for the buffeting of air and the tugging of gravity and the camera man freefalling beside me to capture every thoughtless expression of emotion and then I’d suddenly jerk upward as the chute deploys...It’s over. Then I’d settle into a peaceful serenity as my brain catches up with my body and it finally registers that everything will be fine. And then for the first time that day I’d smile. And I’d be so happy that the slightest breeze would be capable of altering my movement. And I’d float...and I’d float...and I’d just know that everything was to be better than before – because I jumped…because I trusted the chute.
That is exactly what a wedding is like! I don't know how else to describe it.
Two weeks ago, as Denise and I witnessed the marriage of our daughter I'd liken the experience to the thrill of skydiving. There’s the waiting and anticipation and then the sudden blinding flurry, almost too much to take in so fast - too fast. Everything seemed to be happening and I was there watching it all as if remotely. I was aware of everything but remained incapable of dividing myself into it all at once. And then as quickly and as intensely as it began, it was over.
As the proud Father of the Bride, I’m still sailing a bit above the ground. But indeed I’ve survived the ordeal and couldn’t be happier.
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