I envy my 6-year-old son. As I sit, actually more like half-lying-down-in-an-amoebic-sort-of-way, I sense that the pull of gravity is at least ten times greater than normal. "Normal" for me being a pull of gravity roughly 5-6 times greater than Earth's normal pull. Seem familiar? When the muscles in your body feel as though they consisted of lead? And you futilely try to recall the last time your eyes could open fully without strain?
Compare that to my son. My sweet, adorable shrimp with his toothpick legs and visible rack of ribs. He doesn't walk; he runs. Yet when he runs, his stride is as silent as a gazelle's. When he throws himself up onto his hands, it seems effortless. The best thing we ever bought was a trampoline (complete with safety net, mind you). There he can spend hours devising his own stunts, each one more daredevil than the last.
He's utterly fearless and exudes 110% confidence.
Cut - back to me: sitting, sorry half-lying, stuck like a tetraplegic amoeba. Happy to be breathing (that's always something!). Wondering if I'll ever be as awake and/or as alert as I once was? When my reflexes were sharp as a knife, and my thoughts were crystal clear.
A time when I, too, honestly believed I could do anything?
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