Wednesday, February 3, 2016

probably would

"Can you do this Grandma?" my grandson asks hopping, his two skates rising off the ice in a perfect leap, and then another. I think about jumping. I think as hard as I can. I even bend my knees but my skate blades stay firmly bonded to the ice. "I jumped in my heart," I say, but my grandson has whizzed ahead and is now skating backwards. "Can you skate backwards?" he asks, sliding to a stop with a frosty spray. "I never learned to skate backwards," I admit. "How do you stop like that?" I ask admiringly.
"Hi Grandma!" my granddaughter calls. Her eyes are bright, her cheeks flushed as she rushes up the ice, her hands gripping a blue frame. And only a few moments later, there she is again, skating along with 'no visible means of support.'
My littlest granddaughter has made it out onto the ice too. It was touch and go in the change room. "They're too tight!" she wailed. "Too tight." The skates, the ski pants, the zipped up hoodie, the helmet.....But out on the ice, with standing up AND moving happening at the same time, happiness distracts her with a different kind of freedom.
I felt as stiff as a stick when I started skating. Stiff, but not brittle fortunately because I fell. Wasn't even sore the next day like you'd think. I could probably fall like that once a week without any trouble at all. And if I skated once a week, I probably would.

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