Petty Fears

All my life I have had three defined fears – small spaces, tunnels and bridges. There is an odd feeling that comes over me when I begin to drive over a long expense, into a tunnel, onto an elevator or I need to reach a great height.

Standing on the roof of our house, three stories high in the back, is enough to literally cause me to quake in my boots.

My fears do not stop me from slowly crawling up the ladder to lie on the roof and gaze at the stars, stand next to the Grand Canyons edge or traverse that bridge to get to the other side.

I frequently join the massive traffic jams that get stuck under New York’s Lincoln Tunnel.

But I have that feeling in my stomach. I clutch the steering wheel until my knuckles are white or my legs can barely hold me up. These are deep fears, unexplainable and undeniable.

But I have never let them stop me.

This last week, returning home from a wonderful two-day jaunt to Chestertown, Maryland we approached the Chesapeake Bay Bridge (http://www.cbbt.com/), a magnificent 4.3-mile expanse that connects Maryland’s Eastern and Western shore.

One the way out and over the bridge, I hesitated ever so slightly and said, as I always do “ I hate bridges” as I started moving up the ramp. Which is not really true.

I marvel at the architecture and see a real beauty in bridge structures. I love how they stand as this solid solution to the problem of “how will we get across” and are amazed at how people drive over them, without even seeing them.

A few of my favorite include the Delaware Memorial Bridge; the World’s longest twin suspension bridge wears a lovely green patina. She spans a total length of 3,650 feet. It is not a long bridge, but it really climbs high. Her twin towers, from which her massive decks hang, soar to the sky and are truly beautiful against a bright blue sky.

I adore the bridges the cross the Chicago River at Michigan Avenue connecting the Loop and the Near North Side community areas. This double leaf, double deck, fixed counterweight, trunnion design bascule, or Chicago Style Bascule bridge, dates back to the 1920s as is a part of Daniel Burnham’s 1909 Plan of Chicago.

It has a short span length of 220 feet. What makes this bridge so remarkable is that it can be raised to allow tall shifts to pass beneath and it is a remarkable site to see this 3,750 ton bridge raise and lower. At both ends of the bridge are massive square towers, adorned with friezes entitled “Tablets to Pioneers” that are these permanent reminders that Chicago was a frontier town. The works are the art of Wheeler Williams, a Chicago born sculptor whose monument work can be seen around the United States, from Washington, D.C. Environmental Protection Agency building pediment to the “Fountain of the Water Babies” at Children’s Hospital in Seattle, Washington

The graceful, ribbon-like curve of the San-Diego-Coronado Bay Bridge makes it another favorite. At 2.12 miles long, one of its more remarkable features are the 34” high barrier railings that are engineered to keep cars on the bridge, while allowing for an unobstructed view the edge of its 200 feet height.

I know I have seen movies that feature planes and helicopters flying under her expanse.

The San Diego Bay Bridge has earned the Most Beautiful Bridge Award of Merit from the American Institute of Steel. However, I just need to close my eyes and think for a moment and I distinctly remember the feeling that I was never, ever going to reach the other side of that bridge.

At least not while breathing.

And, if memory serves me right, this is the only bridge ever encountered I would not drive back across.

But back to the Chesapeake Bay Bridge.

After two wonderful days with a friend, Carol and her son, Adam, we were all tired and anxious to get home. Its not a long drive and we were all arguing over who had seen the most Mini Coopers (I was up to 11 or so, which angered the young boys – but then I had the best view) when I looked out and realized we were about half way across the bridge.

The air was very clear, and the water, way down below, was sparkling. And I inhaled sharply. My friend asked if I was ok, and I said yes, I am just too tired for petty fears.

And I realized there is a bit of truth to that statement. Reaching 50 this year, I am tired in new ways. It is not so much physical as emotional. With age, comes wisdom, they say. I think the best gift might be the understanding that the emotional stress is not worth much of anything.

Particularly the stress brought on by Petty Fears.

Which is maybe why women, as they become older, are often called fearless, self-reliant or described as having “found themselves.”

Maybe we do not find ourselves as much as we finally allow ourselves to breath. All the way across life’s many bridges.