And Don’t Run
When I was a child whenever I left the house either for school or to play my mother would call after me, “And don’t run”. Of course I’d remember at first, then my keeness to get me where I wanted to be would creep up on me, my pass would quicken, and off I’d start running. Inevitably this led to mishaps and very often I’d be going around sporting bandaged knees, the reason for my mothers warning.
Nowadays at 82 and crippled with arthritis even after a hip and knee replacement, I get around with the help of a three wheeled zimmer. I look back on those early days with nostalgia. As I propel myself around painfully I often wish I was in the position of needing someone to call after me “And don’t run”. When I eventually arrive at the Pearly Gates I hope to be greeted by St. Peter with the words “Run Run Run”.
Mary Kerr (1999)