The first time I did a walk through in my new house, about two years ago, I took a tumble off the back deck. I miscalculated the distance between the deck's steps, lost my footing, and went flying. My daughter, who was in the backyard sorting out our new property, was too far away to catch me. She could only watch in horror as I soared toward my inevitable doom.
"You did a ninja roll," she told me later. I had flipped in the air and landed on my feet.
My neighbor heard the cries, "Mommy, Mommy, Mommy." He popped his head over the fence, and asked, "Is everything alright?"
There I stood, smiling, calm and composed.
"I'm fine," I responded.
"She's seventy-six!" my daughter exclaimed.
He returned with the obligatory, "God bless her."
That's how we met our neighbor.
The outcome to that fall was good, overall. It could have been a disaster. There have been times when I've fallen and the outcome was not so good.
Win some, lose some.
It was another fall, in another time, another place, that made me realize I was getting old. I was in the backyard of my former house with our two dogs. They were running around, playing, and got tangled in my feet. For the first time in my life, I simply fell over. I thought I would catch myself as I started to lose my balance, but that didn't happen.
When I finally recovered and was able to stand, I was humbled and bruised. The innate sense of balance that had always kept me upright, wasn't there.
Win some, lose some.
In my fall with the dogs that day, I definitely lost some. It was a good lesson, but not one I enjoyed learning. And it certainly was a surprise.
All my life I have tried to be fit. When we moved to the suburbs with my infant son, my husband said, "You have to learn how to drive." As a matter of fact, everyone in my family said the same thing.
I didn't want a car and didn't want to drive. People in my neighborhood drove to do minor errands. I walked. Even with my son in a stroller, I liked the idea of walking to the library, rather than driving--although the library was about a mile away.
Over the years I learned to ride a bike...something I never learned as a child. Eventually I bought a treadmill and a stationary bike for inside exercise. I used them so much that I had to stop because my left knee gave out.
Then there was the time I bought a Firm Flex. This was an exercise machine, a Body-by-Jake design. 'Jake', in his promo video promised, that Firm Flex "...will give a great cardiovascular as well as toning all your major muscle groups". I dug up that video last night. There was Jake, on a grainy black and white VHS tape, promising a better, more fit body.
I'm not sure why, but eventually that machine fell out of my favor.
Periodically I would prove my fitness to myself by doing a cartwheel. One day, on my 47th birthday, I proved it to my class.
"I do cartwheels," I had told them. They didn't believe me, so on my birthday I wore culottes and executed a cartwheel right there in front of them.
At the next school event for parents, one mother came up to me and asked, "Are you the teacher who does cartwheels?"
Yes, I was.
Sadly, though, despite the cartwheels, Firm Flex, and stationary bike--the clock kept ticking. The day the dogs threw me off balance in the backyard, I didn't feel betrayed by the clock, but I did recognize that a certain part of my life was over. I'd received warning that I was no longer sure-footed.
"You have to be careful, Ma," my daughter had said, when I told her about the fray with the dogs. How careful can someone be? People fall at any age, but my children seem haunted by the possibility that I, or my husband, might fall. Their hyper-vigilance is not only annoying. It can actually lead to more falls.
Last week, I opened the front door and leaned out to pick up a package. My daughter saw me, and in an effort to stop me from bending, yelled, "Ma..." That's all it took. Startled, I fell forward onto the stone step. Minor bruises and scrapes resulted. Not a winning situation.
Win some. Lose some.
I'll end my little dissertation on falling with a bit of romance--definitely a win.
It was my very first date with my husband. We had been colleagues at work for months and I think each one of us had a crush on the other.
He picked me up at my apartment and as we walked toward the car, I tripped.
"Oh no," I cried out. Not because my brand new pants were torn, but because I was embarrassed.
He was solicitous and helped me to my feet.
Months later, after we were engaged, he brought up the fall.
"I knew then," he said with a chuckle, "that I wanted to marry you."
Nobody wants to fall, but sometimes a fall can be a very good thing.
This blog was written in response to this week's Inkwell prompt: You win some, you lose some. It was fun going down memory lane and reliving some of these episodes.
Thank you for reading my blog.
Hive on!
