Have you ever seen anyone "fall off the wagon"?
This was one of my first memories as a child.... I was about 5 years old on family vacation. With a gaggle of 15 children under 16 years old, my mom and my aunt decided to go on a field trip to a farm for a hayride. Memories include a crisp sunny fall day, the smell of fresh hay, and laughter.... we all hopped onto a rickety trailer, pulled by a great big green tractor, and off we went for the journey.
As the family bounced up and down with the ruts of the trail, we maneuvered through the countryside to get to the apple orchard. I don't remember any fear until we rounded a bend at the top of the hill. As my older brothers and cousins were jumping from hay bale to hay bale, my baby brother decided to join the big brothers and fell off the wagon.
My little brother and I were sandwiched between my Mom and my Aunt and within a split second, my Aunt reacted. She jumped after my brother and wrapped her arms around him. As they tumbled together down the hillside, my Aunt protected him with her body. She was captured within the gigantic wheel well as we continued down the hill. Once the shrieks of the children were heard by the farmer, he slowed and stopped the tractor. My Aunt crawled out of the wheel, battered and bruised. My little brother was unharmed, shaken up, but protected by the caring arms of my Aunt.
"Falling off the wagon" is never easy, whether you are in my Aunt's shoes, or my little brother's. As they fell, we didn't know the outcome, or if the shrieks of bystanders would fall on deaf ears. My Aunt would reminisce that she felt there was no option for her to fall off with my little brother, because she was the closest one to save him.... so selfless on her part.
My little brother, now in his 50's, remembers the fun part of the day, and the horrifying part of falling off the wagon is blurry in his memories as something that happened, but not in a scary way.
And yet, he was the one that fell off the wagon.
This was one of my first memories as a child.... I was about 5 years old on family vacation. With a gaggle of 15 children under 16 years old, my mom and my aunt decided to go on a field trip to a farm for a hayride. Memories include a crisp sunny fall day, the smell of fresh hay, and laughter.... we all hopped onto a rickety trailer, pulled by a great big green tractor, and off we went for the journey.
As the family bounced up and down with the ruts of the trail, we maneuvered through the countryside to get to the apple orchard. I don't remember any fear until we rounded a bend at the top of the hill. As my older brothers and cousins were jumping from hay bale to hay bale, my baby brother decided to join the big brothers and fell off the wagon.
My little brother and I were sandwiched between my Mom and my Aunt and within a split second, my Aunt reacted. She jumped after my brother and wrapped her arms around him. As they tumbled together down the hillside, my Aunt protected him with her body. She was captured within the gigantic wheel well as we continued down the hill. Once the shrieks of the children were heard by the farmer, he slowed and stopped the tractor. My Aunt crawled out of the wheel, battered and bruised. My little brother was unharmed, shaken up, but protected by the caring arms of my Aunt.
"Falling off the wagon" is never easy, whether you are in my Aunt's shoes, or my little brother's. As they fell, we didn't know the outcome, or if the shrieks of bystanders would fall on deaf ears. My Aunt would reminisce that she felt there was no option for her to fall off with my little brother, because she was the closest one to save him.... so selfless on her part.
My little brother, now in his 50's, remembers the fun part of the day, and the horrifying part of falling off the wagon is blurry in his memories as something that happened, but not in a scary way.
And yet, he was the one that fell off the wagon.