On Falling (oh! the joy!)

Up until yesterday late afternoon, the main way I’d fight back tears when I didn’t want to cry was to remember the time my dad fell when we were skating. I was probably about eight, and some of us were skating on the lake behind my grandparents’ house in Foxboro. None of those details are important to you, but just writing them makes me want to laugh. It’s coming. My dad is about to lose his balance. Hold on.

I’m not sure exactly what happened, but what I remember is watching him tilt backwards as if someone had blown a wild wind straight into his chest and then he folded in a weird awkward dance of hope at the knees and then…wait for it…he landed on the ice butt first, skates up in the air.

HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA.

Truly. That’s the kind of person I am. One who laughs at things like her dad landing on his butt on the ice.

(He was fine. It wasn’t like I was laughing at someone who had cracked his pelvis or someone who wasn’t also laughing. FYI.)

But something happened yesterday that was even, in my mind, funnier.

I fell.

And I don’t think I just fell. I believe I flew.

It all happened so fast that I can’t be sure of what is fact and what is fantasy, but I have the body memory of none of me touching earth for a few moments. Kathy and Ralph were outside watching the Patriots, and I’d come out with a plate full of a salad I had just made when I kicked (with my bare foot) the leg of the table, and, that folks, was that for my two-legged travels. I was airborne, plate in hand.

There was no way I was going to drop that salad. I was a guest at Kathy’s house and it was her plate. I did not want to break it. I am also terribly lazy when it comes to food, so it was a miracle I’d created something healthy for myself. I did not want to clean all that health off the ground rather than eat it. So I held onto that plate for dear life as I sailed into Kathy’s garden.

All those plants were so soft—it was a mattress of greenery. They caught me, buffered my fall with their leaves and flowers and stems and general kindness. I am sorry I broke some of you, dear whatever kind of plants you are. I can’t adequately state how much I appreciate what you did for me. My face did not hit anything hard—I smashed into you with such wholehearted vigor, and you did not even scratch me. I weigh 144 pounds plus the salad and the plate and you held them all.

Thank you.

When I got up, I was laughing so hard, Kathy and Ralph thought I was sobbing. I could not stop laughing because the flight was still replaying in my body. To leave the ground like that with no warning! There I was, thinking I had my shit together and was going to just sit on down with my salad. and instead I face planted into plants. I mean, come on.

HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA.

Dad up in heaven, I hope you saw that. I hope you are bent over your self laughing your butt off.

Thank you for falling.

And thank you for showing me how to get back up.