My Mother Takes a Fall

During a Sunday outing with my 84-year-old mother she took a fall in Bryant Park. I watched it happen as if in slow motion and thought to myself, “Omigod, this is terrible.”

She may not have seen a small step when she fell flat almost on her face. She stopped her fall with her hands but managed not to hurt her hands. In fact, she wasn’t hurt at all. I chalk it up to her modern dance studies with Martha Graham and a lifetime of exercise. She also takes a balance class at the Jewish Community Center on the Upper West Side.

As soon as it happened she popped up gracefully and shouted out: “I’m okay, I’m okay!” with a big smile on her face.

Two friendly NYC police officers ran over and helped her up. They told her to sit down for a few minutes. Just in case. “You don’t know how often this happens,” one of them said.

What a near-miss. She could have broken her hip or her wrist. It could have been so much worse. Indeed, it was a wake up call to check one’s steps, to wear good shoes, to take careful steps and honor the fragility of life.

Learning to fall is, perhaps, the key.