To Fly

I didn’t remember this until just now but once I was able to fly. In my dreams as a child flying came to me with the same ease as walking, swimming or breathing. I spent more time in the air than on the ground. Not that my time on ground was not as equally spectacular. I could see a friend 100 yards off and Stretch Armstrong like take one long step and be standing next to them. This was such the norm in my sleep life that for a while I believed it was true. I would talk to my mom about my last adventure while she was ironing in the dining room and she would somewhat politely agree or ask a question that was not too discouraging. Knowing her now it is so touching that she did not discount my belief.

This went on for a week or so. When I filled my sister Rita in on my unseen talent she matter of factly told me I was wrong. Her disbelief shocked me. So I took her up to my sister Judy’s bed, which in my mind what where one took off from. Crawled up on top after first taking my shoes off, of course, butt backed up against the headboard, charged across the bed and soared into the air. When gravity worked its wonders I was convinced that something had gone wrong. Maybe it was her doubt that was my anchor? I tried once more with her in the room. She did not mock me. I needed to practice so she left me to my attempts. I gave it a healthy try until my mom screamed up the steps to stop shaking the dining room chandelier. It was a long time before I took flight in my dreams again but in my waking life I was land locked from that point on. In retrospect I wonder if it was in that moment that I grew out of childish beliefs and moved away from those that included such things as Neverland?