Month: September 2010

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Holding the Ladder

When Ed and I were first dating, Ed talked about his love for skiing. He went on a big ski trip every winter, and one of our first dates was with his ski buddies. We met them for dinner so that they could look at pictures from their recent trip to ski in Utah.

Ed was so eager to have me learn his favorite sport that he took me skiing as soon as he could. Which is not easy here in the Midwest. Due to a fear of heights, I ended up blubbering in the middle of the ski hill, terrified to keep going down. Ed patiently talked me down that ski hill.

Unlike me, Ed seems fearless. Remember the time we both rode the zip line? Ed showed abandon as he careened over Beaver Meadow!

I, on the other hand, waited until the very last minute to zoom the zip line. I was trembling in my boots and could barely get up the courage to climb up the pole. But with Ed’s encouragement, I was able to do it.

On a camping trip, after climbing to the top of a bluff in Wisconsin, I walked closer to the edge to see the view. Ed suddenly yelled at me, “STOP!” Imagine my surprise! He’s back by a tree, and while I was nowhere close enough to the edge to actually fall off, I could clearly see Ed was very nervous. I asked him what was wrong, and the truth came out. Ed is afraid of heights.

“What about skiing?” I asked him.

“That’s different!” Ed replied, but I really didn’t quite understand.

Last week, Ed was on the roof, meaning to clean out the gutters. He came inside, shaking his head. “I just don’t know what to do,” he says. “Maybe I need to pay someone to clean the gutters.”

I was surprised to hear these words come out of my frugal husband’s mouth. “What’s stopping you from doing it?” I say.

“I’m afraid,” is the answer. Oh. That pesky fear of heights.

“Let’s go,” I say, and I follow Ed outside to hold the ladder for him. That’s all he needed. Even though we both knew I really wasn’t doing much good by holding the ladder, just having me out there made Ed feel better.

It’s nice to be able to hold Ed’s ladder for him. Sometimes it seems like Ed is the one who is always supporting me; I’m the one with the crisis, I’m the one who’s falling apart, I’m the one who’s needy. Holding Ed’s ladder reminded me that we’re partners in this marriage. He needs me, too. I hold his ladder; he holds mine.

Whose ladder do you hold?

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What was probably only a couple of hours seemed like an eternity

When I was in sixth grade, my parents found a slip of paper in the weekly circular that was delivered to our door. It said, “Paperboy Wanted.” And so Mom and Dad, in the interest of teaching my sister and me the value of hard work, got us hired for our first job.

My eleven year old sister and I were now required to take a stack of advertising fliers, roll each up into a cylinder, slip on a rubber band, and deliver these papers door-to-door in our small town of eight hundred. My sister walked one half of town, and I walked the other. Fortunately, instead of getting up at the break of dawn to deliver these papers, we were able to deliver them after school. I also thanked my lucky stars that since these were advertisements, I didn’t have to go door-to-door asking for payment. Unfortunately, every house got a paper and the time it took delivering a circular to each and every house seemed endless. Once a week, my sister and I walked home from school to start rolling papers for a strenuous job that paid very little.

One day, as I was trudging along the main street to deliver my load of tightly bound cylinders, the wind began to pick up. I looked up at the trees. Branches were waving back and forth, and the leaves were twirling around in the air. The sky was turning dark. A dog at the next house started barking. I had an uneasy feeling in my stomach. I wanted to turn back and go home; my house was only a couple of blocks away. But no, the lesson of working hard had already stuck. I kept on, looping rubber bands around doorknobs. It started to sprinkle. Big, fat drops hit the sidewalk. Then, the storm hit. Rain began pouring out of the sky.

Dad pulled up next to me in the car. He had come out searching for me on one side of town and my sister on the other. He helped us finish our route. In the drenching rain, we dashed out of the car to hang the paper from people’s doors, since that was what we were paid to do.

What a relief when our bags were empty and the papers were all delivered! Dad took us home. Mom placed two drenched, shivering girls into a warm bath and fed us dinner. I’ll never forget that feeling of coziness and comfort of finally being home and being taken care of.

To this day, if the wind starts whipping tree branches around, I feel uneasy. When I hear the sound of leaves rustling wildly in the trees, I shiver a little bit, even on a warm day.

Mama's Losin' It



Even though this session of Mommy’s Piggy Tales is over, I’m still writing about my growing up years! If you are interesting in writing about your youth, another session of Mommy’s Piggy TALES is beginning on Thursday, October 7. Don’t want to remember that far back? I’ll be guest hosting “My Young Adult Years” at Mommy’s Piggy TALES starting Monday, October 11. I hope you’ll join us!