Skydiving for Hope

Someone said, “It’s go time.”

And then, over Williamstown, Gloucester County, I jumped out of a plane.

It was truly a free fall—flying at 120 mph, spinning, tumbling, laughing, screaming (with glee!) and flashing my fists that had my daughters name (Lily) and the name of my friend’s son (Owen). Two brain tumor survivors, two warriors who have faced fear deeper than a jump at 2.5 miles above the ground.

I did not dive alone. More than 300 other jumpers joined me and my close friend Kerrie, as part of the annual Cops United Free Falling Spectacular (CUFFS) Event to benefit Alex’s Lemonade Stand Foundation for Childhood Cancer. The event was planned by the Policemen’s Benevolent Association, Local 362. Held at and sponsored by Free Fall Adventures in Williamstown, the event raised $11,000 for childhood cancer research in 2010. Kerrie and I were sponsored by a group of friends and businesses, including Hopewell Nursery in Bridgeton.

Lily was diagnosed at 14 months old and now, Lily is 5 and healthy.  Owen is two years out from treatment. Everyday 36 more children are diagnosed with pediatric cancer. Everyday 36 more mothers are forced to leap into a world of chemo, radiation, surgery and IVs.

Leaping into the vast and gorgeous blue sky seemed like the perfect way to remind myself that anything, even a cure for pediatric cancer, is possible.

Here's how it went on Saturday:

Our tandem instructors walked us to the plane, where my harness was attached to the plane (sort of a rustic seat belt). I spent about 15 minutes wondering what the heck I was doing, laughing at myself and  thanking God that my instructor appeared confident this was all going to work out.

Then, with my very amazing (and seriously, new favorite person, sort of my lifesaver hero, etc., etc.) tandem instructor Mark Kruse, I left the plane.

While dangling my feet on the edge of the plane, I realized that jumping out of a plane at 13,500 feet is the easier than walking your infant daughter into the operating room for brain surgery. It is easier than sitting in the waiting room while she gets radiation to her brain. And it is much easier than waiting every six months for the results of her MRIs.

While flying like a superhero through the skies, I realized that anything is possible. The world is limitless and if I can leap from a plane and survive; I can do anything. For the first time in my life, I felt totally fearless. Every piece of baggage I had, fell away.

The vast blue skies reminded me that hope can be found anywhere—in a cup of lemonade, in an operating room and at 13,500 feet.

I will jump again and again. I will jump to make sure my hope does not run out. I will jump until there is a cure.

And if you are intrigued, save the date, the CUFFS Event will be held again in July 2012.