This year I turned 64—twice as old as my sister was when she died. I knew I had to do something to honor her; to let her know I hadn’t forgotten my vow. So, I went ‘Over the Edge’. For charity, I rappelled off a ten story building.
Hey, I’m a fat old lady, but I’m still in shape and I rappelled, way back in college. So I signed up, and my husband did too. November 30, we drove downtown. I walked up to the building, saw the fire trucks, and thought, WTH am I doing? But I’ve never backed down from anything, so I swallowed my fear and got in the elevator. They put us in harnesses, took photos, and sent us upstairs to train by hooking us up to ropes, and showing how the equipment worked, before stepping onto the ledge.
Now, let me tell you, it’s one thing to plan to do something crazy. But reality slaps you silly when they tell you to climb on a stepladder to the edge of a ten story building. Then instruct you to turn around and hang your heels off the edge and lean back. Yes, I was hooked up, knew what to do, and trusted the equipment. But still, survival instinct is STRONG. I closed my eyes, said, ‘This is for us, Nancy,’ and pushed off..
Turns out, that the edge was the worst part. Once my heart came back from redline, the view was amazing, and I enjoyed seeing the people, like large ants, walking below. I talked to my sister all the way down. It took me longer than my husband, and my knees didn’t want to hold me at the bottom, but I DID IT!
I didn’t know when I made that vow, all those years ago, how it much my life would change.. It’s led me to a full, interesting life that I’m so proud of. I highly urge you to push yourself beyond what you think you’re capable of—you may be surprised how far you go!
Here’s the dedication to her from my book:
My soul mate, Nancy, has been with me, through all of it. I feel her in the wind when I’m on the motorcycle. I’m sure she was laughing, watching me rappelling! This poem perfectly describes how I feel. I’ve used it as a dedication to her in Days Made of Glass:
For Nancy. Wherever you are, save me a seat.
Your absence has gone through me
Like a thread through a needle.
Everything I do is stitched with its color.
-M.S. Merwin, ‘Separation’