When Ruby was a little girl, she met her Uncle Jack.  He was tall and handsome with a quick smile.

 

"So, you're Ruby," he said and knelt before her.  "I've heard you're a daredevil. "

 

Ruby beamed.  She loved being called a daredevil.  Women like Amelia Erhart were daredevils.  They wore trousers and smoked cigarettes. 

 

Jack swooped her up and held her high above his head.  "Do you like to fly?" He spun around still holding her above him.

 

Ruby stretched, her arms extended beside her like wings.  The light breeze kissed her rosy cheeks.

 

She was flying.  She was a daredevil.

 

Years passed.   Uncle Jack was killed in Vietnam.  She grew up and married.   Two children blessed her marriage.  

 

Life happened.  She was called sweetheart, darling, mommy and ma'am.  But never again did anyone call her daredevil.

 

On her seventy-first birthday, her husband asked her how she wanted to celebrate.

 

"I want to throw caution to the wind and go fast."

 

He took her go-carting.

 

The day of her seventy-second birthday, she announced to her husband.  "Want to go higher and faster."

 

They rode the rollercoaster at the local theme park.

 

Her husband passed away two months before she turned seventy-three.

 

She looked at the urn on the fireplace mantle.  "I have an idea for my birthday."

 

Ruby made a few calls and lined things up.  The morning of her birthday, she stowed his urn in her purse and drove to the airport.

 

"Can I help you?"  A young man in coveralls walked up to her.

 

"My husband and I would like to jump from your airplane."

 

He blinked twice.  "Are you Ruby?"

 

"I am."

 

"This is amazing but you were already scheduled to go for a ride.  Did you not remember that you already had a reservation?"

 

"When?"

 

"It was made three months ago."

 

Ruby frowned.  "I never made a reservation.  My late husband must have."

 

"I'm sorry are you sure you want to jump?"

 

Ruby nodded.  "I'd like to feel the wind in my face."

 

The engine roared and Ruby felt her stomach flip as the wheels left the runway.  

 

"Ready?"  The man said as he hooked Ruby in tandem and they moved to the open door.

 

"Happy birthday, daredevil,"  he shouted over the roar of the wind.

 

Ruby looked back at the urn that was strapped on a seat.  "Thank you."

 

And as she fell, the wind on her face brought that familiar feeling.  She wasn't just Ruby, darling or sweetheart.  She wasn't mommy or ma'am.  She was a daredevil.