"Say Goodbye to You!"

July 8, 1996

Went on an unplanned camping trip when Dad discovered he didn't have to work July 5. Beautiful trip from my point of view. Some little boy on the trail in front of me at Swallow Falls was kicking up his heels, jumping around and making his parents nervous. They were trying to restrain him, but he kicked up to eye level and crowed, "Say goodbye to you!" Dad and I laughed and talked about how thin we would be if we kept that active. I used to be able to kick high like that, so I said, "Say goodbye to you!" and kicked my right foot up high. Trouble was my left sandal slipped in the gravel and nothing held me up. I went down on my petussi right on a big pointed rock in the path. Bottom hit first and then my left ankle buckled. I was looking up at the sky and at Dad's anxious face. Bottom hurt worst, then ankle, then wrist where I had tried to catch myself. Couldn't get up for a while. I felt disconnected from my body somehow--like I was looking out of a box that had rolled down a hill--and I couldn't stop laughing. I wondered if that was how Grandpa Hawkes felt when he fell backwards all those times. My bottom still hurts, but I was lucky. I could have cracked my head on that rock. It could really have been "Goodbye to you!"