Tales from the Bonfire | Pulled Back Into Life
In early 2021, I decided that I had waited long enough to jump out of an airplane, after talking about it for years. I was away from my family working a new job and had been doing almost nothing every weekend for months on end. So, I set up a tandem at Skydive Danielson in Connecticut for a Sunday in May.
I arrived early to watch other people and the interactions at the drop zone. I watched everything. When it was finally my turn, I remember being harnessed, the banter on the way to the plane and the fear! We finally exited, and I don’t know that I remember anything until the parachute opened. Then the instructor said, “Welcome to the office.” The views! The ride! The feeling of “Oh my god, I’m hanging by my straps 5,000 feet in the air!”
Once we landed, I knew I needed to do that again (and again). I went into the office and scheduled another tandem for the next weekend.
Three days later, I was in my office when I got the call that my son had died by suicide. I fell to my knees. The next 36 hours were a blur. I remembered my tandem, and had it rescheduled for later in the month. After 10 days, I decided that I should get back to work, but nothing made sense. I was back in Connecticut, but I was on autopilot.
Later that May, I did my second tandem. In June, I did my third, followed by my fourth that same day. I scheduled my first-jump course.
I had found the solution. All I had to do was lock my brain into this new world and keep myself alive in 5-minute increments. Skydiving became my safe space. Nothing else matters, from “You’re on a call” until you’re back on the ground. Those post-jump conversations around the fire were both therapeutic and innocuous. They were necessary. No one on a drop zone ever asked if I was married or single, gay or straight, Republican or Democrat, rich or poor. They let me talk about Chance when I needed to, and I let them talk about whatever they needed to. Life. Kids. Music. Loss. Skydiving.
By the end of October, I had my license—and a new obsession. When my marriage of over 25 years went south, I got in the sky. When I lost my job, I got in the sky. When I need to clear my head of all the noise, I get in the sky. The places I have been and the people I had the opportunity to jump with and connect with are the greatest gifts of skydiving. I know that I was headed down the wrong path, and this sport quite literally pulled me back into life. And I know Chance is there every jump. I’m wearing his Vans.
Nowadays, I jump because I love it and I love sharing it with other people. And I do what I can to promote suicide awareness, such as prevention walks and fundraisers. If you see someone struggling, the National Suicide Prevention Line is #988. That’s 24 hours a day, 7 days a week, 365 days a year. Call or text, and people will help.
And if you need someone to talk to, I’m here. Call me. You matter, and life is better with you in it.
Jimmy Lariviere | C-53212
Suffolk, Virginia