Sunday, May 27, 2012

The Art of the Dismount

It's been a few wagon loads of years, not days, since I had been on a swing and let me tell you, it was glorious.  Why was I on a swing today?  Well, we were invited to join grandson and his parents for a play date at the park.  (Play date--new terminology for me but doesn't it make it sound so special!  When I was growing up, I didn't have play dates and even as a teen had few dates at all.  Maybe that's why I like the term.) 

Anyway, we were meeting at this new park near our homes.  It is fantastic and a treat for kids of all ages (even 60 somethings!)

One section had water jetting vertically and then suddenly horizontally.  Then it would stop and start in another area.  It was hilariously fun if you didn't mind getting wet and especially if you didn't mind getting wet unexpectedly.

Another part had some tube slides, climbing ropes, tunnels, and a small rock climbing wall.  Then there were the swings.  Who can resist a swing?  Baby boy and I got on and had a fun, gentle ride.  I must admit I think I enjoyed it more than he did, but he didn't cry or scream (with terror or delight); he just held on tight.  After a short ride, we stopped and he and his mama went back to the water fun.

However, I overheard my wonderful son-in-law say how good it felt to swing high and use those muscles.  Hmmm, I thought for a minute.  I'm in to exercise and using muscles!  So I hopped back on the swing and started to swing with a grand pump of my legs.  

With each pump, I became younger and younger.  The air would blow through my hair; I was back in elementary school.  I was flying.  I was free!  I leaned way back and would see the blue sky coming closer.   I must say I was swinging higher and higher than my son-in-law did.  (At least in my imagination.)  The fact that we weren't in sync might explain my proud declaration.  I'm sure he saw me touch the tall tree branches.  I said I did anyway.

Then I asked him if he used to jump out of the swing while in the air.  Being a manly man, he admitted that he used to do it all the time and I don't doubt it.  So I said, "Yes, I did too!  Wasn't it fun!"  Now I am wondering if I really did.  Was I that brave as a young child?  I don't know but I was brave today.  I suddenly declared that I was going to JUMP.  No fear, no doubts or second-thoughts.  After all, I was ten years old and could do anything!!!

I did let the swing die down just a bit before my dismount.  There was never a question in my mind that I couldn't or shouldn't do this.  You just let go and let gravity do the rest.  No big deal.  Just like riding a bike...you never forget how.  (One small fact...I never learned to ride a bike!)

Anyway, I did it.  I let go and flew gloriously through the air and all too quickly landed...on my back.  I think I had forgotten, after all, how to do this.  I don't believe the dismount was a 10 like I had planned and imagined.  My sweet son-in-law jumped seconds after me (landing upright for heavens sake) and hurried to see if I were okay.  He said he was trying to jump before I did so just in case I needed help, he would be there...Whoever would think I needed help?  But I did need his help--his help for me to quit laughing and grab his hands so he could pull me upright! 

So the dismount wasn't so great or so artful.  It certainly wasn't a 10!  But sometimes you gotta just let go and give something a try.

Nothing is broken; nothing is hurting, not even my pride.  It was fun.  I'm just glad my husband did not see it or you would already have seen it on Facebook long before anymore wagon loads of day could go by!

Wheeee!

Leta

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