Jumping For Joy

Is there any better reason to jump?

My youngest granddaughter (age 6) is a jumper. Her older sister (age 9) is not. In my sixties now, I am also not a jumper.

What the hell is wrong with me?

My daughter’s house has a front and back door. Both doors lead out onto a very small landing and then there are four steps leading down to ground level.

My oldest granddaughter and I walk down those four steps like normal human beings. My youngest granddaughter never does. She always jumps from the top of the landing down to ground level.

And every time she does that I come close to having a mild heart attack. I imagine having to call up my daughter and telling her that her youngest daughter just jumped off a skyscraper and I have to take her to the hospital for multiple bone breaks. I imagine becoming the scorned grandpa who could not be trusted with the safety of two little girls. I imagine horrific scenarios and I get scared.

My daughter’s house is on a hillside. Every house on her block is like a staircase with each house being higher than the one below it. There are usually rock or brick or stone walls separating each house because of the difference in height.

The other day I was playing ball with the two girls. As usual we were playing with a plastic Disney “Frozen” ball that is approximately the size of a soccer ball — except it is a lot softer and lighter than a soccer ball. We were throwing the ball back and forth and playing keep-away and “pig in the middle.”

Then I accidentally threw the ball way too high and far and it landed in the neighbor’s yard (the next yard up). There is a five-foot high cinder block wall separating the yards. My six-year-old granddaughter raced towards that wall and she jumped up to the top of it like some kind of mountain lion. She went into the neighbor’s yard and retrieved the ball then threw it down to us.

Then she went to the edge of the five-foot high wall (taller than she is) and she jumped off of it! She landed like a mountain lion as though it were nothing.

I almost peed in my pants but she kept going like such a jump was the most natural thing she could do. My older granddaughter would never do that. She would go the edge then sit down on it and turn around to slowly lower herself down to ground level. Apparently, she has grown up too much.

Me, too. I would never jump off a five-foot tall wall. Two feet is about the most I will jump. And even that scares the bejeebers out of me.

My six-year-old granddaughter loves to jump. And every time she jumps she jumps for joy. I’m not sure I ever understood what ‘jumping for joy’ meant until she became a part of my life. And every time she does it she laughs and giggles and says, “Come on Grandpa. Now you do it!”

Yeah, right!

When does the joy of life change? Is it when we stop jumping? Is it when we stop jumping for joy? Thank goodness I have a little angel to point these things out to me.

Copyright by White Feather. All Rights Reserved.

Speaking of little girls…