Weeping in the Playground by Pamela Francis


I was standing in the middle of the playground weeping.

Not because I got hurt – although with the weird new thing happening with my hip when I walk, and the awkward way I’ve been ascending the stairs at home and at work, and the crazy phenomenon whereby I can no longer keep my arms raised and outstretched above my head for any length of time…(??!!) can injury be far behind?

I turned 50 this past birthday.  My soon-to-be 15-yr old has entered high school, and my 7-yr old is now the age big bro was back when I’d thought I was “home-free” the 1st time around (but had somehow managed to spring another bambino on us at 43), so guess what…?  I have returned to the work force.  I am back in the classroom.  I am out on the playground.  And I am weeping at the sight of all these energetic, courageous young bodies dangling from monkey bars and tearing around the bases during kickball.  Will I ever be so brave again, I wonder?

I used to love roller coasters.  Six Flags Great Adventures’ Lightning Loops was no match for my derring do back in the day.  But last summer it took quite a bit for me to go down that water slide with the vertical drop at Raging Waters.  And even as I plan a trip to the San Diego Zoo that will entail a zipline ride over Serengeti-like terrain, I wonder… can my heart take it?  Will I chicken out at the last minute…?

Dr. Christiane Northrup, M.D., who I have been reading for 20 years, has written a book called “Goddesses Never Age”, and I will likely get a copy before the New Year, but I gotta tell you, this here Goddess is wondering if it’s time for some Boniva with a Vitamin D chaser.  The only time I’ve ever really been on vitamins was during my two pregnancies.  I tend to believe I get all I need from the foods I naturally gravitate towards, but should I start lifting weights…?  If you could see my upper arms with its femininely impressive biceps, you’d think I was more than fine doing whatever I’ve been doing.  But those lovelies were formed and developed years ago and while they still look good… why can’t I easily reach for those plastic Tupperware bowls just above my head in the kitchen cabinet?  Why am I the first one to lower her arms during yoga…?  Why can I feel the discomfort all in my shoulders and along my sides…?

Egads!  Am I… growing old…?

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  1. One Response to “Weeping in the Playground by Pamela Francis”

  2. I hear ya! I’m actually a big fan of both weight lifting and taking vitamins/supplements. And, while I’m not daring in the rollercoaster/zipline sense….I’m not afraid to take the plunge when it comes to passion projects. There is more than one way to be brave in this life. So, go for it!

    By Robin Gorman Newman on Aug 29, 2017

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