Today I’m writing for Five Minute Friday, where we write flat out for five minutes, unedited, on a one-word prompt. Today’s word – here. Join the fun with your own post or just read what others have done with their 300 seconds. Check it out at http://lisajobaker.com/category/five-minute-friday/
If I had to pick four words that summed up my childhood, I think they would be “Get down from there!” I heard those four words probably more than any others.
I was a climber. I climbed on the furniture. I climbed on the cars. I climbed trees. I climbed on rocks. I climbed up the tree next to the garage and onto the garage roof.
And whenever Mom or Dad said, “Get down from there!,” I happily complied … by jumping.
Off the car.
Out of the trees.
Off the rocks.
Off the garage roof.
There was something about being up high, as high as I could get, and then launching myself out into space and feeling, for just those few seconds, that weightlessness, that sense of belonging only to the air, that was so exhilarating to me. Right at the moment before I launched, I always heard my voice in my head whisper, “Jump!”
I was fearless. And I suffered the broken arms and sprained ankles and scarred knees to prove it. (By age 10 I was on a first-name basis with most of the nurses at the emergency room of Good Samaritan Hospital in Dayton.)
I looked at today’s Five Minute Friday word — jump — and it filled me with delight as I remembered those daring escapades of my youth.
Then I began to feel a little sad. Because somewhere between then and now, I quit jumping. I developed a fear of heights, I guess. I began to stand on the edge of the garage roofs in my life and look down and say, “Uh uh, don’t think so,” and go back to the tree and climb to the safety of the ground.
Was it when I had kids of my own and I was responsible for more than my own life?
Was it when I became a “grown-up”?
Or am I just a coward now?
I’m on the edge of a garage roof right now. I’m looking at the ground, a long way down. I’m feeling the wind teasing my hair and my heart’s pounding and I hear that voice whispering, “Jump,” and I want to, I really do.
Really. I do.