“It’s like taking off in an airplane.” We were riding in the backseat of the car, my best friend’s step-dad at the wheel. I don’t know how old we were. 12? 13? Still at an age when everything was very dramatic and important. It was some sort of sporty car. The kind that, even if it isn’t going fast, it looked fast and sounded fast. When the light turned green, she said, “Close your eyes and lean your head back.” I almost always did what she would suggest. It was usually fun. And she was right. The sounds and the darkness outside mixed with the acceleration and closed eyes was a dreamy way to take flight. 
Years later, I relive this scene with every takeoff in an airplane. Always, when the plane is about to depart. The flight attendants have settled in after the safety demonstration. The carry-on bags are stowed. My seat belt fastened — low and tight across my lap. There’s the briefest of pauses when the plane turns on to the runway.
Whatever I’m doing, I stop. I peek down the runway. I tell God how much I love my family. Then, I lean my head back as the engines are engaged. Just before we move, my eyes close. With a deep breath of calm, I smile to myself, and think it’s just like taking off in an airplane. 
I hear her voice right next to me and I think how fun it would be to have her here next to me on a flight so we could take off again. An adventure all these years later. This time flying to an adventure not just home. As I said, I usually did what she suggested. She had a great sense for adventure where I was usually more worried about what happen, who would get hurt, and how much trouble we would be in. We were a good balance, though. She taught me how to act with less fear — or despite fear — I kept us from months of being grounded. Now days, I’m less worried about being grounded and I’ve had more practice recently to tell fear to take its own flying leap. 
Fear comes around, of course. It’s there. Always just under the radar. Present, but hopefully quiet. There are times I when the fear drives me. Times when it stops me. Most times, it turns on me. Questions my self, my skill, my dreams. That’s when the fear has too much control. Time to leave it behind. I leave it behind at the next takeoff. Maybe it won’t catch me. Maybe when it does, I’ll take my adventure anyway. Best friend at my side saying, “It’s going to be fun. You’ll see. Let’s just try.” 
Until I get to spend time with the best friend again, I have to carry her fearless wisdom with me. “Carry her in my heart,” as ee cummings said. I have to make my own adventures. They are coming. I’ll write more. I’ll take care of me more (that’s another blog). And one day there will be a Chapter called “7 houses.” The 7 homes from mine to hers. That will be her chapter. Until then, she reminds me of adventure with every flight. She says in her dreamy, pre-teen voice, “it’s just like taking off in an airplane!” And, it always is.