I’m Not a Fall Guy

Although I have famously fallen

The author on the edge

My Geriatric Journal #20

The greatest glory in living lies not in never falling, but in rising every time we fall.
Ralph Waldo Emerson

I fell. When I do something, I tend to do it well.

I few days ago, while working in the garden (on the edge of a ravine), I stepped on some soft soil, slipped, flipped, slid, and barreled down a steep embankment, skimmed over a rock face, and ended thirty or so feet later face down on the edge of a macadam road.

Most people my age fall in the tub or shower, but I am not most people. According to the CDC, one in four older people (65 or older — I was 80 at the time of this writing, soon to be 85) falls each year. One out of five of these unfortunates suffers a serious injury such as broken bones or a head injury.

I fell spectacularly off a mountain (albeit a small mountain), got up, brushed myself off, and hiked back up to the garden where my wife was certain I was dead. Yet I had no broken bones, no head injury, just a few superficial scratches, a bruised ego, and a sense of wonderment, which I contemplated as I finished planting…