As I sat in the plane, on the runway is Seattle, getting ready to take off I pondered life. It was a weird take off. It was late at night- almost midnight. But for some reason most of the window blinds were closed. I like to see out the window as we taxi and lift off.
There was one shade open across the aisle. So I strained a bit, but was able to see. At first as we were getting to the runway, I could tell that we were moving. But I couldn't tell if we were going frontward or backward. Maybe we were backing away from the gate? I couldn't tell.
We sped up and I could hear the engines roar as we went faster and faster and we were ultimately airborne. I always think of take off and landing as the most dangerous part of flying. I don't know if that's true, but it feels like it.
And as we ascended into the air I thought about possibilities. Such as; what if the plane crashed and I died. I don't think I would really know what happened. Or, if I did, it was be quick and then- nothing. How would they know it was me? By the plate in my head? By the serial number on my artificial knee? By my dental records.
And then I thought about what a mess I would leave behind. The kind of grief and sadness and terror that my family and friends would have to live with. Forever.
Am I morbid? Curious? Just human?
I know that I can't live forever. That I will die. No getting away from that fact.
And I guess on some level, that's religion. Religion gives you the tools and words to try to make sense of it all.
As the plane was landing, the sun was rising. It was a beautiful sunrise. The woman sitting next to me in the window seat got some beautiful pictures. I could only get a sliver between the seats in front of me.
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