Soaring

Soaring

Being confined in the room for so long, we all began to look for things to talk about that were light and airy. It’s amazing how small a place can become when you’re suffocating.

“I think I’d pretty much rather be anywhere else but here right now,” Alby said. “Even with the window open I feel like I can’t catch my breath. I can’t feel the air. Not like that

time..

In 1992, Marcy and her husband Marshall vacationed on Sanibel Island with Mom and Dad. It was a restful trip with days spent on the beach and evenings of lazy dinners. While walking the beach looking for shells, Marcy pointed out the parasailers soaring above the beach. Multi-colored sails dotted the sky and from a distance the people dangling from them looked like tiny birds.

“If I could be sure I wouldn’t get motion sickness, I’d love to do something like that,” Alby said off-handedly.

“You should try it! How amazing that would be!” Marcy was thrilled.

“Absolutely, Dad. I’ll bet it’s an experience,” Marshall said, the exuberance contagious. For everyone that is, except Mom.

“Have you lost your mind, Al? You need to ride on a boat to get out there and you’ll vomit. And you don’t like to fly. And you’re not big on heights. And, need I remind you, you’re seventy-two years old?” Mom was aghast at the whole idea of it.

“I’ll do it!” he shouted, encouraged by Mom’s negativity and fueled by the desire to scoff at his age. “Seventy-two and still goin’ strong!”

“Don’t come crying to me when you get sick. And don’t complain later when you have pain,” Mom admonished him.

Is it possible to get a degree in admonishment? I think Mom got a Master’s in it.

The four of them walked to the parasailing hut and signed Alby up for the next time slot. The Captain said they could all ride out with Alby so they’d be able to watch it all up-close-and-personal. Donning life preservers, they boarded the boat when it came to shore and rode out over the calm waters to get to where it was safe to parasail.

“The last time I was on a boat was when I was in the Army crossing the English Channel. The water was choppy and I couldn’t stop throwing up. I’ll never forget it,” Alby said as his face started to cast a greenish hue. “I’m fine, I’m fine,” he said as though he was trying more to reassure himself than anyone else.

“We’re just about there,” the Captain announced and within a few more moments cut the motor and started fitting Dad for his parasailing gear. Over each shoulder were placed backpack-like straps and trailing behind from the straps were yards and yards of heavy black rope.

“You’re going to climb down this ladder here and just fall into the water. Your life jacket will keep you afloat. Once you’re in the water, I’ll start the engine and pull away from you. As the boat picks up speed, the parasail will fill with air and you’ll slowly be raised up. Eventually the ropes will get taut and that’s as high as you’ll go. We’ll let you fly for about fifteen minutes and then gradually slow the boat down which will land you gently back into the water. Any questions?”

“Yeah, just one,” Alby said as he turned toward Mom. “Pearl, our wills are up-to-date, right?” He laughed heartily.

“Al, you’re an ass,” Mom replied.

“I love you too hon,” he said and blew her a kiss as he made his way down the ladder steps. “Make sure you take my picture when I’m up there or else no one will believe I did this!”

No sooner was he in the water than the Captain started the motor and pulled away fairly quickly leaving Alby bobbing in the wake. It took less than a minute before Alby was airborne; his famously skinny legs dangled loosely as the green and blue parasail rose higher and higher.

“Oh my God,” Mom said as Dad became nothing more than a pin dot in the sky. “Your father is nuts.”

Marcy and Marshall were howling with laughter, taking snapshot after snapshot during his fifteen minute ride. The Captain made strategic turns so the parasail would shift its position and from the view on the boat it looked like Alby was billowing gently along. Once the boat’s speed was reduced, Alby and his parasail were brought down ever so slowly and he eventually came down in the water without so much as a splash.

The Captain turned the boat about and motored to where Alby was waiting and reached down to help Alby climb back up the stairs. His hair was wet and sticking out every which way and his cheeks were flushed. Within seconds the straps were off Dad’s shoulders and he was sitting on the sideboard bench.

“How was it?” Marcy asked him.

“That has to have been one of the most remarkable experiences I’ve ever had,” he answered in an unexpectedly soft voice. “I have to admit that when you first pulled away and I was waiting to go up, I peed right then and then. Almost fed the fish, too. I was scared to death. I wondered why I was doing something so stupid. Then, as I went further up in the air, I heard a brand new silence that had nothing to do with the fact that my hearing aids are out. It was different, more peaceful. It was a silence I could HEAR. And then, when I looked down, even without my glasses I could see the dolphins swimming beneath the water’s surface. I couldn’t do anything but cry because it was so remarkable. Beautiful. For those fifteen minutes I wasn’t a deaf and half-blind old man; I could see and hear the most spectacular things.” Alby was overwhelmed. “What a world we live in.”

Mom went over to Alby and hugged him. “You know what? You’re not an ass after all,” she said as she combed his wet gray hair back with her fingers. “You’re a wonderful deaf and half-blind old man I love so much.”

“As beautiful a sight as those dolphins were Pearl, you’re still my favorite thing to look at,” Alby replied with his familiar warmth. Then, he turned to Marcy and Marshall and offered some Alby wisdom.

“You should never lose sight of the fact that old age needs so little, but needs that little so much.”

It was a day he’d remember as being as whole, with all his senses, as he’d ever been in his life.

“What a great day that was,” Marcy said. “We’ll have to do it again soon,” she added, more of a prayer than a statement. We hoped God was listening.