Life is a peculiar thing. It brings all sorts of joys and hardships to someone. It can be exciting, thrilling, and magical. Life can bring so many opportunities and possibilities. My life has been filled with many spectacular opportunities. Sadly, I have never acted on the opportunities. All my life I have put others first and have been too scared to go on my own adventure. I have nasty-old wrinkles. I have frail- gray hair. Even my eyes and ears barely work. I am 79 years old sitting in a Caravan right now, progressively getting higher and higher into the sky. Now you may be wondering what is a Caravan and what I’m doing, but I will get to that later. I had the best husband who passed away about 3 years ago. We had four kids and 15 grandchildren--all boys. We lived in an ordinary house in an ordinary neighborhood. I had plenty of friends and my family was happy. I was content. I loved my children and husband, and what they brought to my life. However, there was something missing.

Ever since I came out of my mother's womb, I have lived on the wild side. As a little girl, I was a little on the tomboy side. I always wore overalls and big baggy t-shirts and I always had a hat on. I played with all the boys and always came home with cuts and bruises from being a wild child. As I grew up, I started to act like more of the girly girls you see in school, I even started to actually look pretty, but I still loved sports and living on the wild side. During my junior year of highschool, I started to experience real life decisions. I had to start thinking about college and what type of career I would like to study. It really overwhelmed me. That’s when I decided that I didn’t want to live an ordinary life. I did not want to live in the city I grew up in or have an office job. I especially did not want my friday nights to turn in to me sitting at home. However, not everyone gets what they want. 

It all started when I met my husband. I was twenty-three and he was 26. We dated for two years and then got married. He was more of a practical man. I was a boat yearning to explore the sea and he was the rope that kept me attached to the land. I loved him very much and did everything for him. I lived in the city I grew up in when his job moved us there. I stayed at home with our boys when he went on work and golf trips. I felt like I had to do all of that. He was like no man I have ever met or seen. He truly cared for me, and he was always there for me. He never knew that I truly wanted to explore the world. I felt that I would be a burden to his dreams if I ever expressed mine. I also helped my sons achieve their goals, which I was perfectly fine with, because they are my life. Their dreams were more important than my dream. I did a pretty good job at helping them too. In fact, two of my boys went on to play D1 college football, one went to law school at Harvard, and the other went to the University of Southern California to study Cinematic Arts. I helped and pushed them to be their very best selves they could be. I wanted them to achieve their goals and they did. 

 Now I am old, and I have one regret--being scared to be selfish, so that I could see and do once in a lifetime things. All my life I have been way too selfless. Not anymore. Last month I was diagnosed with cancer. So now I’m a 79 year old with cancer and one big regret. I decided I wasn’t going to die with regrets. I have to die fulfilled with my life. I am 90 percent there. The last 10 percent is adventure. That’s why I am sitting in a Caravan right now, progressively getting higher and higher into the sky. A Caravan is the type of plane that skydivers jump out of. I am going to jump out of this plane in about two minutes. I am nervous, but I am way more excited. Think a 79 year old skydiving, who would have thought! One minute till I jump ( attached to the profesional, of course). This is what I have been waiting for. I can’t believe I am finally completing my desire to go on an adventure. Twenty seconds till the jump. My heart starts to race. It feels like a sledgehammer. My armpits feel like a pool. Why am I so nervous! The countdown begins. Five, four, three, two, one. My hands let go of the bar, my feet fall off the plane, and my body descends into the sky. 

I am a bird. I spread my wings to feel the sharp brisk air against my hands. My chirp is loud and proud. I am screaming, yelling, and chanting. This is what I have been yearning to do. Tears roll down my face and disappear into the air. I feel sadness from the thought that I was not able to experience this moment with my husband. I feel it from the doctors voice from inside my head telling that the cancer is progressing too fast, that there is nothing that can be done to fight it, and that my life is nearing the end. But that sadness somehow turns into happiness. My happiness sprouts from the feeling of being in the sky and finally achieving my dream. Finally, the parachute opens up. I look down at the small tiny trees and buildings. From my point of view, my foot is bigger than the buildings. The air is nice and calm now. The sun shines bright with no clouds competing to cover it. I’m probably getting a tan right now. I never want to leave the sky. It’s so peaceful. Sadly, the buildings and trees slowly become bigger. Getting back down on the ground seemed to take a hundred years. The landing was the worst part. My weak body hurt from the hard hit on the ground. It was okay because the pain was worth the experience. 

After the amazing experience, I start to drive back home. The doctors told me I have seven to twelve months to live. They said this last month so I have six to eleven more to go. That means I have six to eleven more months to adventure. As soon as I arrived home, I ate some dinner, bought a plane ticket for Italy, and packed my bags. For the next six months, I am not letting this cancer stop me.