Wednesday night I was trying to get our trailer ready so Kevin and Jenny could have a weekend trip with their family. There were a couple of things that needed to be attended to in order for the trailer to work well.
|Sort of looks like this one|
Let me preface the next part by relating a story from my mission days.
When my Dad turned 40 (Sept. 1974) he sent me a letter commiserating on the ravages of age. I was the ripe old age of 19 (soon to be 20) and fell into his trap. At that time he was working as a machinist in the copper mill and he had experienced some setbacks in his physical health. I don’t remember all the details but I think there was an arm that was hurt and something in one of his legs. Anyway, he wrote something that has remained in my head all these years later. As I have aged I have reviewed this sentence many times. He said (paraphrasing):
I always heard that when you turn 40 your body begins to fall apart – but I had no idea they meant it happened all at once.
I chuckled and put it away, waiting to see if the same thing happened when I got to that point in life. Thankfully, my work career has not been as physically taxing as Dad’s and I escaped pretty much unscathed.
Now back to last Wednesday.
As I entered the trailer for one of my trips to fix something, I had one of those “slow down time and watch things happen” experiences. My right foot went to the step that enters the trailer but as I put weight down, my purchase on the step faltered (here’s the slow part). I remember thinking, “That’s alright, I will catch my balance and things will be just fine.” NOT!!! To my complete and extremely painful surprise not only did my foot continue slipping down to the ground, but my leg, from ankle to knee, felt this scraping sensation across the front that instantly brought intense pain. To make matters worse, I forgot to put my hands down to catch myself and so I landed face first on the floor of the trailer, bending my glasses and causing what little sense I had to flee for safety.
My sweetheart, hearing a loud thump from the direction of her faithful spouse, called out to see if all was well in Zion.
My reply was AGHHHEEEIEEIOOOOWWWEEE (thankfully there are no more swear words in my head).
Guess what story flashed into my mind as a picked myself up and began to assess the damages. As I licked (figuratively) my wounds I was brought to remember the words of a wise father from so many years before.
Though I avoided the curse at 40, it seems the curse is still intact in the family and hit me at 56. You see, this isn’t the first incident – and I suppose it won’t be the last. I so was hoping I could avoid any major altercations with my body until after retirement so I could enjoy my later years.
For your viewing pleasure, I have included a picture of the damage – this is actually a few days later but it is more exciting and colorful than immediately after.
|Purple, red, yellow, and other interesting, not supposed to be there colors.|
Sorry for the pasty white skin but……….. well, just sorry.