Wednesday, May 29, 2013
But I guess that really that is not completely accurate.
The learning part started awhile back with her watching. and waiting. for her bones and muscles to grow.
Observing other people walking.
Then slowly pulling herself up with her disproportionate little arms on unsteady chubby little legs.
Surfing around the furniture, not sure when to let go.
And then as if a miracle lunging forward a step only to fall down again.
And now today, as if she is tired of waiting for her gawky little body to get it's act together, she is lunging forward,
stomach pushed out,
legs straining to keep up with her torso.
At a quickened pace as if to suggest to her little frame,
"I will walk and you better get used to it."
She tucks her upper lip in with steely determination.
And I can't help but laugh out loud.
She resembles more a monkey than a human
with her unsteady gait and her wobbily legs.
And the sound that her little hands make when they slap the tile floor in my kitchen makes me stop my laughing and wonder how much it hurts each time she fails and falls.
Only to laugh again as she picks herself up and starts all over again.
My grand daughter is teaching me.
I am trying to learn how to walk too.
Trying to pull myself up in a new chapter of my life.
Holding on to the furniture around me with a death grip.
But I am not as fearless as she.
I worry too much about the pain of the tile beneath me and the laughter of those watching.
I second guess my ability to take a few steps....
Never imagining that I could someday run.
When I said that I always wanted to be a mother.
What I failed to mention is that I had confidence in my ability to do so.
When I was a teacher I always knew that I was equal to the task.
Every summer job I ever had I knew that if I worked hard enough I would be successful.
Now that I am testing uncharted waters with starting my own businesses
I find myself standing on wobbily legs.
Not wishing to find out what it feels like to hit the ground.
So I want to thank you Kate.
For being braver than your Grammy.
For letting me be inspired by watching you.
Grammy is going to join your unsteady pitter patter parade.
And just keep getting up, tucking in my upper lip and trying again.