A lot of people will tell you that as long as you’re above
ground, you’re doing well. That’s not necessarily true. What about being underground--in
a cave? My husband decided he wanted to spend his birthday exploring a local
cave. While I wasn’t entirely enthusiastic at first (I’ll get to that in a
minute), I came around and ended up getting a killer workout out of it. Also,
it made me feel really adventurous and daring because I could have possibly
died in there. The chances were small and insignificant (just how I like it),
but there was a chance, okay?
My lack of cave-related enthusiasm wasn’t without reason. When
my husband and I first started dating and we were still trying to impress each
other, he asked me to accompany him and a friend into a cave. Underground. The
only female with two males that I hardly knew. With no cell phone service, or
anyone who could hear my potential cries for help.
Being the bright, discriminate eighteen year old I was, I
agreed. I shudder at the thought of my daughter one day making irrational
decisions like that, but let’s move on. I went, and when I noticed the last
speck of daylight had completely disappeared in this underground chamber, I
realized my mistake. I didn’t know these boys well at all (at the time), and I
had never been in a cave before. I was relying on them to guide us through the
cave. It occurred to me that maybe they were leading me to a slow, painful
demise. I hadn’t even told anyone where I would be! No one would know where to
find me if I went missing. I started to panic. But I continued to try and act
“normal,” in case they really were psychopaths. I didn’t want to anger them
unnecessarily or let them know I was onto their (nonexistent) evil plan.
Suddenly, a voice came from the other end of the cavernous
room Michael and I sat in. It sang, “I wanna be where the people are. I wanna
see, wanna see them dancing. Walking along on those…what do you call them? Oh,
feet!” It was a song from my favorite Disney movie, The Little Mermaid!
Michael’s friend (or as I had begun to imagine—his henchman) was singing Disney
songs, enthusiastically and without shame! I knew no danger could possibly come
from a man who knew every word to songs from The Little Mermaid, so I
immediately felt relieved. I joined in, and together we sang the entire song. I
survived the ordeal and felt a bit ridiculous for being scared, but relieved
nonetheless when we reached the surface again.
I can laugh about my heart-stopping fear and paranoia in the
cave now, almost five years later. But the uneasy feeling the cave gave me
stayed with me all this time. So when my husband said he wanted to go
spelunking for his birthday, I agreed, but wasn’t thrilled. However, since I am
now nearly 99.9 percent sure my husband isn’t a psychopath or one-half of a
murderous duo, I did feel a little better about caving. I bravely suited up in
my ugliest clothes and boots and mentally prepared for the underground
adventure. We dropped my daughter off with her grandparents for the day and
made our way to the cave.
It turned out to be incredibly fun, slightly dangerous, and
extremely wet and muddy. I was so busy enjoying our exploration that I
completely forgot to be paranoid or sing a verse from The Little Mermaid for
old time’s sake. In fact, I enjoyed it so much I’m willing to go back!
When we showed our daughter pictures from our little
expedition, she was amazed. “You were under the ground? But how did you get
there? Did you dig?” She wasn’t offended in the slightest that she didn’t
accompany us. After she saw the pictures, we asked if she would like to go into
the cave one day. She replied “No, you and Daddy can go underground. I’ll just
stay at Grammy’s.” That’s a smart girl.
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