When I was 19, I lived with my good friend Angela in a loft apartment. To make getting down the stairs less trying for us, we would slide down the stairs. To make this sliding more efficient, we wore "sliding suits." These consisted of sweats with tube socks pulled up over the legs. A few times we both landed on the floor.There was even a period of time when I had a broken leg. I would crawl up the stairs, and then put the bad leg over the good one to slide back down. Of all the crazy things we did, I have no pictures to prove this. And even if I did, I seriously doubt I would share such sensitive information.
Yesterday, I was being a mom and cleaning up messes. I used a wicker basket to gather all the toys, papers, shoes, and books that had magically appeared in the living room. Next, I carried the basket up the stairs to return the items to their proper homes. Ryan followed me and asked if he could help. My first reaction is no, I'll do it. What!? He wants to help! You bet you can help! I start handing him stuff, and telling him where to put it. He was having a blast. Then he needed to go potty. So I sent him downstairs to take care of his business while I finished up. Before I could finish the job, he finished his and called up to me, "Mom I made the big poop!" Hoo-ray! Another success! I told him I was on my way. I was on the bottom half of the stairs when I must have lost my footing, because I went down. I grabbed the handrail and did my best to grab onto the half wall on the other side. All I can remember next is hitting my backside on the second to last stair. Ryan was a bit scared by it all and asked if I was okay. A young person would probably have just jumped right back up and brushed themselves off. After 30, you have to sit a second and find out if you can move. I was able to move, and assured my son I was fine. Today I am feeling it though. Again, a young person might have a few bruises to show off, but after thirty it's more than that.
I no longer slide down the stairs, and certainly do not recommend it. I take the stairs one at a time. I was in no hurry. I was going at my normal pace and yet I still took a spill. It's proof positive that most accidents DO happen in the home, and that one should watch their step.
Today we honor men and women who have served our country, and those who are in service of it. Whether they have served or are serving now, they all do it with great risk, love for their country and its people. Thank goodness for these brave souls who make our freedom possible. May we always think of them, and thank them today and everyday.
I also want to thank the family members. Having been one myself, I understand military life; at least a little bit. I never had to have my husband deployed to any place scary. Being in the intelligence community, he was the one he called on the guys who went out--more or less. I have no idea how or what he did in his job. It was high security. I will never know. I am fine with that. I don't want to know. I have known at least three women whose husbands went to war. I was so scared for them. I can not imagine how they must have felt. And yet, they carried on their daily lives and gave reports whenever they got any. I admire these women and their children, who accept their military member's call of duty; whether it is an over night duty or a year in a war torn country.
Thank your service men and women, and remember those they leave behind. It's one of the toughest jobs in the military.