Fly, baby, fly

NSG is my hero.

After lots of cognitive behavioral therapy, 8 weeks of fear-of-flying classes, and a nice little cocktail of anti-anxiety medication, rescue remedy, and relaxation techniques, she got on a plane today for the first time in almost SEVENTEEN YEARS.

Can I just say that again?

She flew! She flew! She flew!

And she rocked! She called me from LaGuardia to crow, and I crowed with her, and then Roo and I did little dances all over the house and made up songs about Mama flying until it was time to go get her at the airport.

Tonight we cancel our reservations for an insane Amtrak trip to Crazy State next month and buy plane tickets instead, which means travelling about 6 hours (round trip) instead of 48.

I don’t know that I could have done this if I were in her shoes, but it’s one of the things I love about her. She doesn’t care so much about travelling, and did this mostly for me (how did I get this lucky?), but I think it never occured to her to think about some of the places we might go together if we could just get there. Now we’re talking about going to Banff, to San Francisco to see our friends whose son we’ve never met, to Hawaii (we even have a place to stay) – where else?

[Happy dance, happy dance, happy dance]