The Autumn Fall

I’m OK, but had a doozy of a fall today.

Not only was it a humdinger, but it was my public debut.

Ironically, it happened while I was shopping for and homing in on some sensible shoes.

I only wear level, flat, gripping, narrow shoes that don’t suggest in their design that they are going to take over the walking process or rub against each other. For the past two years, I have worn nothing but Skecher Go Walks, because they fit the bill.

But today I was on my way to visit my mother who has HD and is temporarily in a nursing facility. Nervous about the visit, I decided to first check out the shoes at the local department store.

And right off the bat I had a possible SCORE with the form factor, plus the shoes were black, soft leather, meaning that I could aspire to be dressy.

I looked around for my husband and son, but they were nowhere in sight.

I had to immediately try on the shoes, I felt, because I was already fixated on them.

So holding my purse in one hand and my cellphone in the other hand, I slid out of my Skechers and into the leather shoes, and in doing so I begin to lose my balance. I swayed back and forth, grabbing with my elbows the shoe rack for size 7 shoes for support in front of me and the shoe rack for size 8 shoes to keep me upright.

Meanwhile, and time would bear out how unwise this decision was, I stuffed my feet into the leather candidates and started to take a full stride, hands still full.

Unbeknownst to me, the pair of shoes was held together by a thick rubber band. This decreased my expected range of motion by 90% and I started going down.

It was a slow fall, as I tried to brace myself against the shelving, while holding onto my possessions while not hitting my head. After hitting the floor, I assumed a crawling pose on the store floor, but I still didn’t realize that the shoes were connected and continued to try to walk with them, which only made me bang my arms and legs and back on shelves and floor and probably myself.

I thought the mishap would never stop unfolding and when my body stopped moving enough, I lay there on the floor for a minute, taking inventory of my body parts and of my possessions. I was afraid that I would be quickly expelled from the store as a suspected drunk, but I was both pleased and alarmed that the many shoppers who were in view of the event just went right on shopping.

After a while, Randy and Mark reappeared and I told them what happened. They held my belongings and watched as I safely tried on the shoes. By this time the elastic had broken off and I didn’t pitch forward.

The shoes hugged me and felt like butter. I bought them and the checkout person remarked that the theft device bubble had been removed from the shoes as well, but they had not been stained. I felt a little stained.

I went to the nursing facility and watched my mother sleep. She looks like a doll when she sleeps. I tried halfheartedly to awaken her, but my body was starting to feel sore and I didn’t want to wake her up just to say goodbye.

I limped and staggered outside to the car and it was windy.

It didn’t feel like fall anymore.

It felt like winter.