Kakadu Poppins

I had made a promise to my six year old son and I needed to keep it, but it involved something that I just couldn't bring myself to do, fly.

Petrified of flying, I couldn't even get on a merry go round. The whole concept of floating around in space without my feet on the ground, made me sweat bullets. I use to carry a brown paper bag everywhere I went, just in case I started to hyperventilate thinking about flying or seeing planes in the air.

I couldn't watch a movie or TV that had planes in them, it freaked me out to much. The last time I did sit through a movie, I passed out and woke up in hospital. Believe me there are not enough words to describe how embarrassed I was.

Every time I looked into his puppy blue eyes, his sadness ripped out my guts. He was so fragile just a little boy, but he was so brave. His mum would have been proud. Four months ago she died of a brain tumour. Together they were inseparable and it made me jealous sometimes. Every night she would read him bedtime stories and tell him of the adventures, she had as a little girl, following her zoologist father around Kakadu. It broke my heart and I would crumble to my knees and cry every time I could hear them giggling and talking. It was a time they needed together and it was a time I needed, but he needed it more.

So when he came to me after the funeral and asked me to take him to Kakadu, tears welled in my eyes and I hugged him tight and said yes.

The day of the flight, I had already been sick three times. He thought it was funny, but I couldn't stop my body reacting. It was on auto pilot. I fumbled the money for the taxi, dropped the tickets at check in and tripped up the stairs to the airport lounge. The handle of my bag broke, the zip on my jacket got stuck and I left my watch on the kitchen bench.

The announcement of our flight ready to board echoed in my ears, but the humming of anxiety made hearing difficult. I closed my eyes and swallowed hard. My knees wobbled under me as I stood and leaning down to pick up the bag I nearly fainted.

He, hurried off in front of me, I tried to tell me to wait but no words came out, when I opened my mouth. I tugged at my jacket collar it felt tight. My palms began to sweat. The air hostess ushered me into a seat and he was already in his. I checked our seat belts at least ten times and read the safety pamphlet twenty times.

As the massive engines roared into life and the plane began to hurl its self down the run way, I gripped the arm rest so hard my knuckles were white.
My son tapped me on the arm. I lent down to hear what he wanted to say.

“Don't worry Dad,” his voice reassuring, “Mum said to tell you that Mary Poppins is sitting on the wings.”



Read More: http://imaginifbusiness.blogspot.com/2010/06/trauma-behind-magical-mary.html

http://www.femail.com.au/mary-poppins-she-wrote.htm