The Face of Death

I had a near death experience today. Well, not a personal near death experience. I nearly lost my husband. To me, his near death is the equivalent of my own death.

When airplanes lane, it is good for the pilot to be able to see the runway. It is also a good thing for the runway to be cleared of snow and ice. It should not look like a blizzard is hitting. But that is what Jeff, and more importantly, his pilot, saw when they looked out the window.

With not even a tinge of apprehensiveness, I had sent Jeff a text to let me know when he and his team landed in Boston safe and sound. Not that I had any concerns, I just like to know. So, when I recieved a response from Jeff that the plane should be landing soon, but it wasn't looking good, I simply took it as him testing my intelligence. I fly on airplanes enough to know that you can't text until you have landed. So, I called Jeff out on it. Only, he wasn't joking. Much like people would do when facing death, he was writing to me to say his final goodbyes. He wanted me to know he loves me and to tell Shea he will miss him. Still, not believing the circumstances, I told Jeff he was f-ed up for doing this to me. I had a smile on my face, imagining him laughing at my stupidity. Until, he continued to insist it was true. His plane had, in fact, tried to land three times, but had to lift back up due to unfit conditions. 

As you can imagine, panic set in quickly. My voice began to waver as I simply repeated to myself, "are you serious? Oh my God." I know your life is supposed to flash before your eyes when it is actually you in the face of death, but my life (past, present, and future) flashed before my eyes. The boy I fell in love with and hounded at the gym, the man I love having a little family of three (Shea) with, the man I see myself growing old with, was on what I was envisioning to be a runaway plane. 

With tears in my eyes and my life on the brinks, Jeff finally let me know they had landed safely on the fourth try. The weight of the world was lifted off of my shoulders. I did not have to become a 26 year old widow and bury my hopes for a happy life. Seeing my life 450 miles away from Jeff, and knowing how difficult it is, I don't want to imagine what could have been. 

So, I will stop the imagining! Instead, I will enjoy my weekend, as I head to Boston tomorrow night to meet Jeff and his team for their game at Brandies, and then NYU on Sunday. With the combination of excitement and relief, I am exhausted!