Makes it all worthwhile.

A while back I posted a story about how I was raised. It included (you should really check it out before going on) a little bit about one of my aunts, auntie Jer, and the effect she had on me and my cousin. I showed this story to her, and she sent me this in return. Something she had written quite some time ago...


It Could Have Been Us
By J. ______

As we flew south toward home through the mountain pass I saw the helicopters still searching for the plane that went down two nights previous. Watching, my mind drifted back to my vivid memory of that fateful night.

We were flying in a friend’s Cessna to yet another peaceful weekend in the mountains, away from the relentless heat of the desert. Less than an hour into the flight, the sky began to darken and ahead was a huge, murky body of cumulonimbus clouds. We had flown into the worst storm I had ever been in.

Entering the massive black clouds seemed to end the day with swiftness, like a power failure in a fully lit arena. We were in total darkness. I couldn’t tell if we were flying high or low, straight, or turning. Looking out the side window, I could see the heavy rains in the pulsing light of the wing strobe. A few moments later, the drops had frozen and I could hear them pelleting the metal skin of the wing.

The cockpit light was turned on and gave an eerie orange glow to the instrument panel. The audio transmission with the tower was switched to the pilot’s headset so I couldn’t ask questions or distract him in any way. Left alone in my silent fear, I found myself wondering if my nephews would have pleasant memories of the time we had spent together.

It seemed like hours, nearing forever, that we had been in the air. When we finally broke the clouds on our final approach, the city looked different. Were we in the right place? The street and runway lights glowed with a chilling calmness, seemingly unaware of what was taking place not less than 2000 feet above them.

Obviously, the pilot knew all the right mountains to dodge because as I stepped out of the plane, the ground was solid. Rain danced on my face as I looked up. The sky was still laden with nature’s turmoil and unrest.

As we tied down the plane, the pilot remarked there had been another plane behind us that had lost radio contact with the tower. I assumed but was afraid to question the possible outcome.

Three young men lost their lives that night. I wonder if they had enough time to think of the memories they would leave behind.
________________________



"I found myself wondering if my nephews would have pleasant memories of the time we had spent together."

She wrote that quite a few years ago, I'm tempted to say it was the mid 90's when she wrote it. The actual event, the flight, probably happened long before that, when my cousin and I were only 5. She wondered in that story, facing death and blackness, if we would have fond memories of the time we spent together. She said she got her answer 19 years later.

Sometimes I think my writing is pointless (it often is, but I do it anyway), but this time it feels worthwhile. I wont ever really get what this exchange has done for both my aunt and I, but I know it feels good, and that's cool. Its never a bad idea to let someone know what they have done for you. Im sure you owe someone out there a big "thank you", so get to work.