I get my work done, and get home to get ready to go to Perris. Just as I was getting set to walk out the door, the phone rings. Albatross wants to wish me well, and reminds me to relax - to just let it happen. He reminds me that the world is bigger than me, the sky is bigger than me, and if I fight, I will not win. He's right, and something turns over in my mind. This is not a fight; it is something to be experienced, and enjoyed. The fight I have is not with the sky, it is with me. And I resolve to leave the fight on the ground today. I get down through the traffic, pull into Perris and walk out to the school. I see Kimmer walking out of the school - she's gotten there, and is getting ready to jump. I see the fear on her face, and know that my face mirrors hers. I try to reassure her, but who am I to reassure anyone? I'm panicky myself. I hug her hard, and let her go - it's her challenge, and I can only support her from the outside. I can't do it for her, and this is unsettling for me - I would take it away if I could. Kimmer gets called into the harness room, and she's gone. Sinister69 shows up - walking jauntily through the dz in a luscious suit....and the temp has to be over 100! He is looking handsome, without a doubt, but I can only enjoy the sight for a short moment, and then my mind fills with coldfire fear. I turn my mind onto the task at hand, and try to rehearse the exit and jump in my mind. I try to make my brain relax, and I can't, it's still cramped, and my head hurts. Ed and I go through the harness room, and he jokes with me. He's trying to loosen me up, make me laugh, tease me a little, but my sense of humor is missing. It's not getting through, my mind is on my belly, and not on the harness room. We manifest onto a flight that is about 30 minutes out, so Ed tells me to relax. I wish I could. I walk out to the bleachers, and Ed comes over. He says "no radio today", and I nearly lose it. What do you mean? I'll be there alone? Up there, no-one in my ear, telling me I am doing fine, making the small corrections which will put me in the right area? What the flying heck do you mean, no radio? I nod my head, and say, "well, if you think I'm ready, it's your call". I wonder at the calmness in my voice, because I am shaking. We walk through the dive, make the exit from the pretend plane, and, as usual, I am fine on the ground. But I was fine the last time, too. Sin is there, a comforting presence. Kimmer comes out, all geared up and ready to go, and I can see the fear etched onto her features. She is shaking. I know that feeling. I wait for it; it never fails to show up in my body, invading my mind, and seeing her almost makes me cry. Damnit, I think, why is my fear showing on her face? And then I understand - it is not only my fear, it is hers, too. It is ours, together and oh so seperately. And just like she can't tame mine, I cannot tame hers. I reach out, pat her hand, and let it go. Sin and I walk down to the plane well behind her, and watch her board. We wave the plane off, and then the waiting begins. Finally we see the popping of colors over our heads, the moment of grace and beauty that is the skygarden, fullbloom and summer bright, fireworks in a daylight sky. We pick Kimmer's chute out, and she plays, swirling and dancing, and then, she lands - on her tippy toes, perfectly, and Sin and I cheer and holler with shared joy - she stood it up, she did it, how glorious for her. But now it's my turn. Slam goes the window, and I plunge back into the fear, the darkness, the cold. I gather the gear together, and select a tighter jumpsuit. Ed, though, has different plans, and hands me one that is larger and baggier. Reading my face as he always does, he says to not worry, he will make the adjustments, and says "I'm working with you, we're working together" which is all I need to hear. He rolls the sleeve under itself, and shows me how there is no extra fabric to fly around. I take a different kind of altimeter, the kind that goes over my fingers, and strap it on. Dennis sees me, and nods. "If you don't flare, I don't care how well you do in the air, you are failing". Yeah, like that was exactly what I wanted to hear, no added pressure, perfection is easy, right? and I agree, and try to laugh, but it comes out choked. My mouth is dry, and my head hurts, and I want to go home. So I remember that home, for now, is at 12,500. I remember that I have a prayer to say for Laura, and that I have to honor her memory today. All she had been able to say the last time I talked with her on Sunday was "remember me in the sky, my dear". She died on Tuesday. And so I have no choice; I will remember her, and greet her in the wind. I climb onto the plane, thinking of her, missing her for the first time like this. I crowd into the plane with tandems and with rw'ers, and I am the only AFF on that load. At least this means that I don't have to sit by the door. I reset my altimeter, and then watch the ground recede. I look up, and see the tandem passenger across from me staring right down the plane and out the door, and I can tell she's nervous. My nerves are fading now, just mere tickles in the pit of my stomach. I wonder if my shoes are tied tightly, and what would happen if I lost one in freefall. The guys at the door are looking out and hollering "fire", but the plane feels fine, and Ed is laughing and talking to the instructors across the way. The tandem goes white, and starts to look around. I lean back, and ask Ed if there is a fire. He says no, why? And so I tell him. He asks me if I want him to yell at the guys, but no, why, they are looking at a fire in the hills in the distance. They don't realize they may have just scared this poor tandem out of her mind. I reach over and pat the tandem's knee, get her attention, and tell her that they are just joking, we're actually just fine. Now, it's time. Goggles on, helmet on, last gear check, tighten and stow straps. Crawl over to the door, and stop thinking. This exit is easy, but getting to it is akward to say the least. I kneel, get my hands correct, and raise up, outside the plane. Oh, how did I miss this last time? I look straight over the top of the plane - the top of the plane, for pete's sake! - and see the hills in the distance. I take a huge breath, and look over at Ed. I grin, and nod. Out-in-out, and let go. I am here - back here, home.....I arch, and we steady. I get a look at the altimeter, and here we go - o.k., Ed, you can let go of me, uh, Ed, I'm fine, let go...well, I guess I'm not fine, because here I go in a circle. Unintentional to start with, but then I finish it all the way, make it my 360, and not a mistake. I smile, because I think, well, now, that went better. I hold a heading for a moment, long enough to check my alti, and then Ed signals right. I try, and I am a little slow at getting the shoulders to that tipping point, but I do, and stop with my feet to Ed. And then back I go, and almost overshoot, because I am not as in charge as I think I am. Ed stops me, and then gives me the forward movement signal, which I try. But I guess I was a little overenthusiastic, because I get into more of a delta (two levels away), and start to shoot right past him. It's 6 now, so I lock onto my alti, and wait, wait, wait, wave off and pull somewhere between 5 and 4.5. I know I pull early, but I forget that when I am under canopy in time to see Ed falling away below me, a speck of blue superimposed on the brown summer desert ground. I see him reach, and pull, and then his chute comes out. Which reminds me I should pay attention to mine. All is beautiful, no end cell closure, no line twists, just as I see it in my dreams. I start to play, looking around, seeing the thunderheads over the distant hills, all white and puffy, and I want to feel them - are they as soft as I always imagine? - and the blueness of the sky, and the depth to the land. It's all edges and sharp outlines, here above the world. I turn in a lazy circle, just breathing and relaxing, looking at the sparkling lakes nearby, the boats on the lakes, seeing so sharply and clearly everything. My eyes race over the landscape, taking mind photos, I want to see and remember everything, every little detail. I spot the dropzone, and make my way over to it. I run with the wind, and then turn into it, testing it, seeing what it is like today. I get no forward movement, so I decide to stay this direction of the target. I turn in circles, pirouetting at 3000. I dance along the path of the sun, dipping, swirling, swaying, laughing. I am graceful up here in a way that I cannot be anywhere else, I can make patterns in the sky. I check my alti, final decision time. Everything is so incredibly perfect. I remember Laura, and I cry. She is part of me, part of the sky with me, and so I remember her and honor her. I let her go, into the sky, into the joy she must have now; I kiss her cheek, and let her go into forever. And now, I need to land. I cruise over to the far side of the target, and, mindful of the winds and that fact that I have no radio, I turn. I check the windsock, and turn some more. And then turn back the other way. Little corrections, nothing big, enough to set me up, wait, now turn a little more the other way....I see the spot I want to land in, but I am about 75 feet too high. So I look ahead, and there's Ed, on the grass, watching me. I look down my landing path, and there's this patch of water. So I turn a little more to the left, and now I am aiming straight for Ed. On the grass. Too late, it's where I'm going, and who are all these people standing here watching me? Lift my head up, look at the horizon, a little toggle pressure, wait, wait, wait, wait, o.k., slowly, smoothly, finish off now, and my toes touch the grass and I stand it up and these people are cheering for me, and Sin and Kimmer are hollering and yelling, and I whoop and Ed whoops back so I try to ground the canopy. It lays down, and Ed walks over, and hugs me. I do my happy dance, wiggle in place, and everyone is laughing and it doesn't hurt when I land on my feet instead of my bottom (or anywhere else). It's later now, and Sin and Kimmer and I go get something to eat, and then I start the long and melancholy drive home. I miss the camraderie, I miss the friendship. I watch the deepening sunset, see the way it darkens the mountains into only outlines, and I wish on the first star I can see through my sunroof. I wish on it for Laura, for Kimmer, and for me. I wish on it for all of you. I hope your weekend adventures are as fulfilling as my day was. Ciel bleu- Michele
