When I was about eleven or twelve I was thin and light. In early adolescence I put on some weight but, I later lengthened and was quite nicely proportioned through my army days. Weight became a problem after marriage.

I can remember either tripping or being pushed and falling, bouncing my head on the pavement.  It rang for some time.  I don’t think I was hurt much but I got to thinking about falling and I had recently seen some acrobats.  It occurred to me that our limbs are like pistons.  We can pump them and use them either as weapons or as means of defense.  And, I thought further, if you were to fall you could use your hands and arms to cushion the fall.  I discovered with a leap of imagination that if I were to fall with my hands outstretched I could control the fall and not allow my body to hit the ground.

You know what?  I tried it and it worked the first time.  I astounded my parents who immediately proscribed this activity.  I made my age-mates immediately jealous and they descried my accomplishment “Who would want to do that?” I kept it to myself but never really had to use it in cases of emergency.  During those, which occurred regularly throughout my life, I never was able to bring off that fall to the ground, arms outstretched to lower my rigid body gently with my nose never hitting bottom. I regularly damaged me.

I fell recently in my kitchen.  We have chairs there on wheels and my chair was not where I thought it was. So, I sat rudely on the floor instead on my chair.  This was minor as such things go.  The distance was short and the sore elbow responded to ice bags.  But there are other vexing events in the life of a retired man in his seventies.

I was on my bike yesterday in Greynolds’ Park at about eight a.m.  I had successfully made the whole trip through the park and was near the exit when something fell towards my face from above.  I had no idea what it was, probably a leaf.  But it spiraled down right into my face suspended either by a bit of fiber or spider’s thread and it startled me so that I swerved my handlebars and went flying.  My helmet saved my face but my glasses were a casualty along with the destruction of my rear view mirror. My left side was hurt and I could tell my elbow was bleeding along with my left knee.

I was lucky that a group of people I had not seen before appeared and asked the question “Are you all right”? My reflexive answer is usually that I am o.k. although this time I said I wasn’t sure.  This was a less traumatic experience and I was helped up and soon was on my way.  Carol was sure surprised and we conspired to fix me up.  Well, so it goes. Falling is not one of the better things I do these days.