Today was Hannah’s long awaited birthday party.
The cake was a hit, which was nice. She felt proud, and it made me feel good that one of the moms even took a picture of it. And it looks like I’ll be doing one for a grown up party in a few months. Not for pay. The person who asked is a friend of the family, and since I’ll only do it for love, I said yes. Note to universe: This isn’t funny. I am NOT interested in being a professional cake decorator. Not now. Not ever.
The party was held at a roller skating rink. Hannah’s class at school has been going skating on field trips, and she’s been to a few skating party. She LOVES skating, and even got a pair of her own skates for her birthday last week. So, it was the perfect place for her to have her party!
I LOVED skating when I was a kid, too. I’ve only been a few times as an adult (many years ago) but I’ve never forgotten how much I enjoyed it. I stood watching everyone going around and around, music blaring, and I was rocking out a bit, fighting the temptation to grab a pair of skates and get out there. Before March I would have done it. No doubt.
But, since hurting my back rafting (in March) I have become painfully aware that I am not as young as I once was, and in spite of the fact that something looks soooooooooooooo fun, I have to consider the potential catastrophic impact an additional injury to my back could have on my life. I have to say no to things I really, really want to do, if there is the potential for great bodily harm. So I danced on the sidelines and imagined racing around the rink with my hair flying behind me and fought back the tears.
I know I am lucky to be here, growing older – a privilege denied to many – but I thought I had longer before I would have to say no to things I would love to do because they might be too hard on my body. Oh, to be 8 again…or even 35.