Good Luck

As I walked to the car on Tuesday morning, the trunk loaded with suitcases, I turned to say good-bye to my loving son. 

Hugging him tightly to me, I whispered I loved him. He pulled back with a smile and said, “Good luck!”

“Good luck?”

“Yeah. You’re going on a plane, right?”

“Right. But what does that have to do with luck?”

“Well, planes fall out of the sky all the time.”

“What?! No they don’t! Who told you that? You don’t need to worry.”

“I’m not worried. They fall out of the sky and crash all the time. So good luck on your flight!”

I stood looking him in complete befuddlement. I don’t know what disturbed me the most – the fact that he was talking about planes falling out of the sky or the fact that he seemed so unconcerned with the idea I’d be on one of those planes.

“Well, actually, they don’t fall out of the sky all the time. In fact, they are safer than cars.”

He shrugged and shook his head. “Cars don’t fall out of the sky.”

“Well, no.”

“You’re kind of silly, mama.”

I walked away from my son, still shaking my head and wondering why he seemed so unconcerned. I have to admit, though, his comment made me laugh and forget the fact that I’m usually nervous before a flight. And when I landed, I called him.

“Did your plane stay up?”

“It did.”

“How? I thought it would be too heavy.”

“I don’t know how it stays up; I’m just glad it did.”

“Me too. Good luck on the flight back.” I laughed before hanging up, imagining his blithe face and matter-of-fact attitude. Sometimes, I think it might be nice to have his attitude and lack of concern over things we can’t control.