I Fall Down Sometimes

I Fall Down Sometimes:   by Nancy Malcolm
My freshman year of college I went on a trip to Boston with my Dad.  He was attending the Naval War College in Rhode Island, but we met in Boston to do some sightseeing.  After our week of fun, we were literally racing to make my flight home.  As we bounded down two flights of stairs in the parking garage, I tripped on my bell bottom pants and flew end over end to the ground.  Crying, bruised and with a bloody knee, I hobbled onto the plane and found my seat just minutes before take off.  To ease my pain, though, as the plane rose in the sky, I rummaged through my purse to find an old Tarryton 100 cigarette and lit up!  Ahhhh, the good old days, when there was a “smoking section” on airplanes!

I fall down sometimes, but I always get up.

Once, in Ruidoso, New Mexico, I sprang out of the car, after a 30-minute monologue about the beauty of the snow, mountains, clean air and how I couldn’t wait to become “one with nature”.  I took exactly five steps before my feet went out from under me.  It was all in slow motion as my feet casually rose skyward and my bum harshly went downward onto the icy, snow/mud sludge.  With hurt pride and a wet bottom, I hobbled back to the car for dry pants.  

I do fall down sometimes, but I always get back up.

Even now, without much effort, I can recall three other falls on ice.  I always landed on the frozen tundra and embarrassed and/or hurt myself.  You would think an Amarillo girl would be more sure-footed, but not so.

I do fall down sometimes, but I always get back up.  

I could go on and on about my tripping over my feet, stumbling and losing my balance.  I’ve had a lifetime of near misses and bullseyes.  I’ve hurt myself; hurt my pride and bruised more than my ego.  But, in falling, as in life, it’s the getting back up that counts.

Whether you fall down, fall over or fall off, it’s always worth the effort to get back up.  As my friend Minion says, “I don’t trip.  I do random gravity checks.”