Flying The Friendly Skies

My husband and I could not afford a big lavish wedding so we took a cue from a friend of ours and went to Jamaica. It was very important to me that my mother be there so I finally convinced her that she would not die a fiery death in a plane crash.

The morning of our departure dawned bright and mom was a bundle of nerves. She had never been on a plane before, and we were doing all we could do to keep her from exploding. The time to board finally came and as we studied our tickets, we realized that we were not all seated together. Mother and Dad were seated in the front of the plane and P and I were seated at the back.

It was only a forty-five minute flight, because we were connecting to our flight in Atlanta. Fifteen minutes in to the flight, we hit some mild turbulence. I thought nothing of it until I heard the following:

"Oh, Lord God Jesus!" People froze in their seats wondering if this woman knew something they did not.

"Amazing Grace!" My plane mates looked at each other and around the cabin uncomfortably when it became apparent the plane was not going down. I recognized the voice and sank further into my seat.

"Holy Father!" I heard a snicker. At least someone had a sense of humor. I flipped the pages in my magazine with an intensity P had never seen before.

"Jesus who died on the cross!" At this point the entire plane was roaring with laughter. Except me. I wanted to crawl into the overhead compartment and assume the fetal position. I wondered how many more religious combinations Mother was going to come up with.

Finally the flight was over and as P and I exited the plane, we saw mother and dad waiting on us.

"How was it?" I asked, pretending like I had not heard her screams the entire flight.

"It was good! I enjoyed it," she replied. I looked at her to see if she was serious.

She was.