I did it again. I fell this morning, and it was a doozy. The bush was all roots which looked easy to walk through and over, but I didn’t. My foot got caught, and I went down hard. My glasses broke and the right side knee and hand took the brunt of the fall. Two people helped me up and walked me back to the car where I sat feeling perfectly miserable and in pain with tears coursing down my cheeks. Gracie stood on the console, rubbed her face on my cheek then sat down. My first thought was to go right home, but I had must-do errands and decided to do them regardless, to shoulder on in pain. I had trouble walking into CVS, but I made it to the pharmacy then back to the car. The next stop was Agway where the best people work. They carried all the canned dog food and cat treats to the car. I limped behind. My hand is better, but my knee isn’t. These other glasses keep slipping down my nose, but I’m glad for the spare pair. I’ll recover. I always do.

The first real fall I remember was when I was three or four and living in South Boston. I had been jumping off the fence backwards for a while. I told my mother to watch me, proud as I was. It was a tall chain link fence and the gate was my jumping off spot. I got ready, jumped and used my hand to stop myself from falling. I cried a little then went right back to playing. My mother told me she checked my wrist while I was sleeping, and it didn’t seem to bother me, but my grandfather told her to get it x-rayed anyway. It was a buckle fracture of the wrist. I was really proud of that first cast and have a couple of pictures of me showing it off. When I was ten or eleven, I fell down the stairs, hit my chin on a table and slashed my chin open. It was sleepiness which caused the wrong turn out of my bedroom. The bathroom was in the other direction. I walked back upstairs, woke my mother and told her I had fallen. Seeing I didn’t mention an injury she asked if I was okay to go back to bed. I said sure. There was blood all over my pajamas, and I had to sleep sitting up because of the pain, but I did fall asleep. My mother took me right to the doctor when she saw the results of the fall. He couldn’t stitch it as he was afraid of infection so he cleaned and butterflied the cut. I have a great scar under my chin.

Falling is genetic in my family, and I have had some spectacular falls. I have broken a bone three times, counting my childhood break, knocked myself out three times, sprained my ankle and broken a couple of teeth. It was the day my dental insurance took effect. That was lucky, I suppose.