I am absolutely terrified of flying. Trust me, I know the statistics. I've been to therapy for it. I know it is by far the safest way to actually travel.
I don't care.
Getting me on a plane requires a dang miracle or a lot of drugs to keep me calm and knocked out. This is bad on so many levels and mainly because all my family live in different states. We have the baby now and everyone wants us to come visit. I hate saying no, but I do offer to split their plane tickets with them to come out to sunny California. They have obligations and reasons why they can't always come my way. I get it, I do. It makes me feel guilty and one day I need to just suck it up and deal.
And then things like this happen:
I just can't. Two hundred and thirty nine people on board and nobody knows what happened to this plane. It is an eerie reminder of the Air France flight back in 2009. Obviously, something catastrophic took place and the hope of finding the plane or any survivors is bleak. Do you know what breaks my heart even more? There were two infants on board.
As I watch my little girl sleep I can't even begin to imagine the horror the families of these passengers and crew are going through. It brings tears to my eyes.
I hope all the souls of Flight 370 are at peace and may their families find some comfort in knowing that the world is grieving with you.