No Falling
As with many parents these days, our home has become a revolving door for offspring in need of shelter while they make shifts in education and/or career. Over the past 20 months or so, we have had as many as three of our adult children living at the homestead again, taking some time to regroup and to save money or simply to have the luxury of taking a few months to search for a new place to live after relocating. Here’s a newsflash: it is pricey out there!
While I offered a much longer grace period than my husband would have preferred, they have all now moved on to their own next chapters. With one moving out of state (again) for educational purposes (again), we set aside an afternoon to “hang out” as I mentally prepared for their next departure.
We started with the idea of getting pedicures and then decided to drive out to the mighty South Yuba River and spend the late afternoon at a location I often favored when they were younger. As a single mom, it was not unusual for me to pack up my two kids, our Golden Retriever, a picnic basket of sustenance, blankets, towels and camping chairs and head out to our local river for an afternoon or evening of fun on and in the water. After parking, I would pack all the aforementioned items onto my body, and hike with the kids and the dog down sometimes perilous trails to find a piece of private shore, sometimes stepping ahead and then turning to lend a hand so my little ones could safely hop off large rocks or uneven surfaces. Eventually, we would set up a temporary camp and bask in the glory Mother Nature had made ready. Then, before dark, we would trek back up the arduous hills, often in a sweat, our dog huffing with a rock or stick in his mouth, all the way back to the SUV.
Fast forward 20 plus years. With so many fond memories in this setting, the decision to pay a visit was impromptu. We parked and walked across the bridge and, in the interest of time, decided to hike down to the river right there, rather than take a longer trek with a gentler grade. It looked simple enough and I had done it hundreds of times.
As it turns out, times have changed!
With freshly painted toenails, wearing flip flops, with nothing but a bottle of water to encumber me, we began a precarious journey down steep boulders toward the shoreline. It was not far, but it was sheer, and I witnessed a sort of passage between myself and my child-turned-adult, as my kid moved ahead, turning to offer me a hand, as we unsteadily moved from one rock to the next, focusing on both footing and balance.
My mental mantra was simple: “No Falling”. As the Nevada County Falls Prevention Coordinator, I was determined to keep from becoming a headline and simply employed many of the tips I offer when giving talks about ways to reduce the risk of falling. That being said, I failed to comply with several of the important guidelines I preach, including wearing sturdy shoes, walking on even surfaces, and holding onto to a railing.
However, my education and training did help me stay upright! I was slow moving, cautious, and very aware of my surroundings and of the many safety rules I was violating – primarily in the form of unsteady footwear -- I supplemented the lack of guardrails with a strong and steady hand, via my companion.
We had a lovely time, sharing memories from past trips and plans for the future. We discussed our knack for pareidolia, which is the tendency to see faces in rocks, trees, and other random objects, pointing out a boulder that looked like a bear and another that resembled an old woman.
The temperature and flow of the water was ideal and as if ordered by some “things the Yuba is known for”, we admired a beautiful, naked body as it dove from cliff to water.
As the sun began to set, we decided to trek back to our vehicle before it became too dark. Good Lord! Down turned out to be the easy part. Working my way back up the incline, I joked there should have been ropes and carabiners. At one point, I literally had to crawl on hands and knees before thrusting myself over a flat rock to get to the top. Not unlike my old dog decades prior, I was huffing and sweating (san rock or stick in mouth) when I reached the bridge.
So, I am not as young or as fit as I used to be, but I will treasure that afternoon and the pure joy I felt bonding with my offspring. And, while I am not necessarily promoting a precarious ramble, I am here to say it felt so great to be outside and to get physical. Nature is medicine.
If you have not gotten out much lately or feel like you are too unsteady to take on a hike, I’d like to encourage you to attend the annual Falls Prevention Summit taking place September 12th from 9 am to 1 pm at Sierra Presbyterian Church. It’s free and the program is full of information that will help improve both your social and physical well-being.
I hope to live many more decades and look forward to a time when grandchildren will be tagging along on a hike down to the Yuba River. They can take my hand, and I will take the hand of their parent, and the three of us will create memories to last a lifetime. My mantra will remain: “No falling!”
xo, Hollie
