Thursday, April 3, 2014


I'm sure I'm not alone when it comes to experiencing certain situations or someone says something or you do and you think, "That sounds/feels like mom."  I actually feel like I'm in her skin, so to speak. Sometimes it's a little sweet remembrance but there are times when, like this past Monday, I wish we weren't so much alike.

What you may not know about my mother was that she often fell, sometimes breaking something, a wrist or on one occasion both wrists two weeks apart and her final fall which led to a broken hip. Sometimes she sustained serious head injuries which were no laughing matter.  Well, I haven't broken anything but I have had my share of falls in the last few of years which have me reminiscing about my mom's illustrious past.

This past Monday I was in my daughter's fenced in backyard keeping a eye on the boys and their sweet dog, Archie.  Every once and a while I'd make sure I knew exactly where Archie was because sometimes he gets himself in to trouble and I wanted to get ahead of it.  We'd been out there about 20 minutes and I could see Archie making a beeline for the brush pile next to the garage and I knew if he got into it he'd be covered in burrs.  For most dogs with simple coats that wouldn't be that big a deal but this little guy has a double coat, soft, dense hair next to his skin and longer, courser hair over that. As I called his name and seeing that he was completely ignoring me, I rushed over and tripped over some of the bigger, thicker branches and I went flying.

Let's put it this way, if the side of the garage hadn't been there I might still be propelling forward. That may be a slight exaggeration but you get the picture.  I hit the outside wall of the garage with a lot of force and as I sat there in the middle of the brush pile bleeding from a cut above one eyebrow and above my upper lip, I was thinking what I always think at a moment like that, "How am I going to get up?"  You see when you get your knees replaced they remove the kneecaps and don't reattach them making it impossible to get up on your own.  So, though your seven year old grandsons think they can help Grandma get to her feet, in reality you need two adults.  Fortunately, one of my daughter's neighbors heard the boys crying and my daughter appropriately talking in a louder voice than usual, and came over to see what he could do.  His timing was perfect and after a trip to the ER for stitches, the old gal, though somewhat worse for wear and pretty shaken up, was back on her feet and on the road to recovery.

The next day the bruising really developed and I looked I face-planted into the side of a garage. My lip is still pretty swollen (from the side I look like a turtle) and the deep purple bruises occupying the whole right side of my face are a lovely shade of blue and green.  I can get the stitches wet tomorrow(Yay!) and I hope most of the bruising and lumps and bumps will be mostly gone before Sunday.  I teach the 3 & 4 year olds and I don't want to scare them.

As I said in the title, if it's not one thing it's your Mother.  Thanks, Mom, for your falling legacy.

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