It seems the older I get, the more stories I have about aging. Odd, isn’t it? Well, okay, maybe not. Anyway, here’s another of those “When I was younger” stories.
I think I may have mentioned the first part off this in a prior post but in a little different context. So, if you find it a bit familiar, read on.
Several years ago, around sixteen years or so I think, my wife and I were standing in the front yard when we heard a piercing scream come from the back yard. A blood curdling scream as they say. Our son and the dog were back there and from the sound of things, something horrific had happened. Not wasting time going through the house, I ran full speed and leapt over the fence—The 5ft fence. Keep in mind that I’m a short guy and stand only a little taller than that yet, I easily cleared the fence. (Funny what a guy can do when he thinks his kid may be in trouble, huh?)
My wife later wondered why I didn’t just use the gate. It was right there after all, but apparently, I was in hurry or something.
I’d like to claim the feat was accomplished due to some great agility and athleticism, or describe exactly how I was able to accomplish it but I have no idea. All I remember is hearing the scream, taking off running, and then landing beside my son. Who, as it turns out was quite fine. He’d just been playing. Testing his ability to convincingly unleash a terrifying scream. Or, perhaps he was testing his father, to see what sort of response to expect in the future.
Well, this is now the future. I’m pretty convinced that I won’t be jumping any fences. But just because I’m older doesn’t mean I can’t get to other side—even at a place where there is no gate.
Not long ago, my grandson lost a toy over the fence into the neighbor’s yard. Yes, the same fence. No, I didn’t even consider jumping it. Instead, I went and got a stepladder, set it up and then got a second ladder and put it on the other side. Then, it was just a matter of climbing up one ladder, crossing to the second one, and climbing down to get the toy. Much easier than jumping. Of course, in an actual emergency, that method would get me there too late but that’s the price of growing old, I guess.
The good part about that is, I doubt my grandkids would even expect grandpa to respond quickly to anything. To them, I’ve always been old. My son, on the other hand, is likely to still be testing my reflexes at any given time. I just hope he doesn’t actually ever need anything; he might be out of luck. ~
Bruce A. Borders is the author of more than a dozen books, including: Inside Room 913, Over My Dead Body, The Journey, Miscarriage Of Justice, The Lana Denae Mysteries, and The Wynn Garrett Series. Available in ebook at www.amazon.com/Bruce-A.-Borders/e/B006SOLWQS and paperback on Amazon, Barnes & Noble and Books-a-Million. Bruce A. Borders is a proud member of Rave Reviews Book Club.