When I was a little boy I got very sick. I don’t know what it was but I know I was confined to the couch where my mother could tend to me while riding herd on the other nine kids.

I could pick up by her demeanor that she thought it was serious. Serious enough to call Dr. McSweeney to have him come over. (Back in the day of house calls)

I don’t remember what he did, but in a few days I wanted off that couch.

Besides it was summer and I was missing it.

I remember it was a late Saturday afternoon when I got the nod. I could finally go out. Nora walked me to the back stairs and told me to “Go easy.”

Oh, I remember the warmth of that early summer night. I could hear all the kids playing out on the street, bicycle ring-dingies, the girls singing “One-miss-a-loop, and the crack of the bat at the Hodgkins school yard.

Thought I would lose my mind.

Then I felt my feet take off. Almost without me. I felt so alive. I ran, and I ran, and I ran. Up Paulina, down Simpson, back up Irving to Wallace and almost broke the sound barrier on Holland street.

I had boundless energy. I told everyone I passed that I was Superman. I didn’t wait for a response.

It was an unforgettable moment. All that stored energy and the thrill of being alive. I even remember the jersey I had on.

I bring this up because I had the exact same feeling this morning on my run. 65 years later. It all comes back.

Up, up and away!



Please note: I welcome comments that are offensive, illogical or off-topic from readers in all states of consciousness.

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