Helping me up

I am 44 years old and still relying on my dad to help me up.

Softball girls weekend. My son played cabana boy while the 8 team members that could make it got to play divas. They tubed and boated and had a grand time. At one point we boated to the broken bridges down the lake from my parents. My son, showing no fear and impressive upper body strength, found foot holds and scaled the rock base of the bridge like it was nothing.

See that speck way up on top. That's my boy

See that speck way up on top. That’s my boy

Not to be outdone, the girls worked and worked until one-by-one they all made it up. The stronger ones pulled the littler ones the last way in true team fashion. No way-even if the whole team joined force could they help me up!

I wanted to jump so bad! The first day I tried but just couldn’t make the climb. I cheated and went up the bank, scaled the fence made it to the bridge. To make the most of my effort I and climbed from the base of the bridge higher up to the railing where I made the jump. Wahoo!

Day 2 we docked on the South Carolina side. You know…the grass is always greener…the base on this side of the bridge looked much easier to climb. It wasn’t. There also wasn’t a bank to climb. If I wanted to jump I had to get up on my own.
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I tried. I gave it all I had. I wasn’t woman enough to haul my womanly self up to the top. To my credit I got about 1/2 way up but my lack of upper body strength and the size of my lower body made it impossible.

My dad rides in to the rescue. Within minutes he had a rope ladder constructed. He pulled the boat close and I gave it a go. Poor rope.

Evidently I am weak and whatever the opposite of agile is. I couldn’t do it. But I wanted to. Bad. I’ll be 45 in a few weeks. I needed the jump. I needed to be able to do this. I wanted my daughter to see me as cool rather then the choice word I am sure she’d been thinking as I chaperoned her friends. Not getting up there would have been failing and I’d done enough of that lately.

My dad, like he’s done my whole life, got me up. He cupped his hands and I reached up grabbed the big steel bolt of the bridge. It was awkward and unladylike as hell but he got me up there. My big leg swinging around almost knocked him down but he held on until I got to the top. Without my dad I wouldn’t have made it up. Sort of symbolic to my last few years.

It was a boost. A boost to get me where I wanted to go when I couldn’t do it by myself. That’s the part my mom and dad have played all my life. I don’t know if they know how much I appreciate how quickly they always reach out to help me up.

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