Back in the day, my parents signed us up for roller skating lessons. I'm not sure how it came about but I have a vague idea of my Mom not being able to roller skate and not wanting that childhood horror to be ours too. I am not now and have never been a joiner. At the age of six I once sat through an hour long art class, refusing to make a dinosaur out of clay because I was uncomfortable in the situation. The fact that my parents risked it again and put me in lessons amazes me. What if I'd just stood at the rail, not willing to move?
Turns out that wasn't an issue. I was a roller skating fool! I'd fly around the rink, face sweaty, feet blistered, heart happy, 80's pop music giving me wings! Fun doesn't begin to describe what I had when I was roller skating.
The year we got roller skates for Christmas stands out as one of the best ever. We were back home, visiting family, staying at a Grandma's house. I remember waking up and going into my parent's room, sitting on the edge of their bed and putting those skates on right away, sleepy and not all the way awake but very happy.
As a Mom, I look at those skates in a different light. I've always been awe-struck that my Mom found two pairs of roller skates, that fit us, second hand. It was, as she loves to say, a God thing. Money was tight back then, but I didn't know it.
I had a pair of roller skates of my very own!