A friend called yesterday and before I knew it, we were discussing merry-go-rounds, as people do. It reminded me of a couple of stories, related, though 20+ years apart, and I shared them both.
Sometime during the late 80s, we were visiting my grandmother's sister, which we did weekly, and just as we did every time we would visit, we took a walk to the local park. My grandfather stayed behind, talking with the men in the dining room area, only taking interest in our affairs long enough to shout "keep an eye on her", speaking to me of my grandmother. I was a child and somehow, I knew, I was responsible for my grandmother's welfare.
My younger brother accompanied us to the park and once there, we saw a merry-go-round. His eyes widened with excitement and my grandmother encouraged us to "hop on" and enjoy while she pushed us. We got on, my brother sitting between vertical handle bars, which he held on to for dear life, and I stood opposite him, legs spread a bit, waiting for movement. My grandmother grabbed ahold of one of the verticle bars and, now I remember this quite vividly even now, instead of standing still and pushing the bars as they passed her, building up speed over time, she took off running, bar in hand. Immediately, I was confused, but my grandmother had her own way of doing things, so I let it go, and just tried to enjoy. I remember looking at my brother, his body turned away from me, but I could imagine how happy he was to feel the breeze in his hair. Then it happened...
Somehow my grandmother tripped, and for whatever reason, didn't let go of the bar she was holding on to when she fell. Before I knew it, my grandmother, decked out in a denim skort, was being dragged through pea gravel while my brother giggled. Panicked, I turned and dropped to my ass, stuck my legs over the edge and dragged them to slow us down. As I did this, I shouted to my grandmother, "let go, just let go... you're tearing up your legs", but she didn't listen. After what felt like an eternity, but was really just a few rotations of the merry-go-round, at best, the thing came crawling to a stop and she let go of the bar and rolled outward and away from the merry-go-round. She was filthy, covered in dust, dirt, and blood and she had small gravel stuck beneath the skin on her knee. I asked her what on earth she was thinking and she stood up, literally wiped the front of her skort and made a comment about her legs being torn up, and said, "I didn't want to crush my skull".
I was confused, yet again. And, I told her as much.
"Well, I was afraid if I let go, I'd roll underneath the merry-go-round and my head would get squashed."
I turned to look at the base of the merry-go-round to find that there was about an inch and a half of clearance between the bottom of the thing and the gravel. I don't think she had any idea how big her head was....
Upon returning to my aunt's house, my grandfather looked my grandmother up and down, then turned to me, "what the hell happened to her?". I was, at most, 9 years old. She was, at least, 50 years old.
That memory stuck with me through the years and after my grandmother passed away, I was going on a tour of sites that held some great childhood memories. I would leave a pinch or two of her ashes at each site, and each stop was a story I'd share with my children, as they accompanied me. When we got to the park, two of my kiddos ran to the merry-go-round, while the other went to the giant metal caterpillar. I had the girls get on the merry-go-round and I pushed them (by standing still and pushing the bars as they crossed in front of me). As I was pushing them, I told them the story of what happened that day, over 20 years before, on that very merry-go-round. Well, unbeknownst to me, my son had left the caterpillar behind and was standing to the side and slightly behind me, just in my blindspot, near the merry-go-round. The girls were giggling and suddenly I saw movement, my son had jumped from where he had been standing to land on the metal floor of the merry-go-round, only the merry-go-round was doing what it does best, going 'round.
The next thing I knew, my son was airborne; he had been tossed off of the merry-go-round like a cigarette being flicked from a car window.... and it happened so suddenly, he had no idea what was going on. The girls' mouths dropped open and my oldest hung her feet over the side to slow the merry-go-round down so she could hop off and check on him. He landed, with a confused thud, in the pea gravel, and I rushed to his side. Looking down at him, I asked him what in the world he was thinking, and he said "I just wanted to go around".
I pulled out a small jar from my pocket, opened it, and took a couple of pinches of grandma out and sprinkled them just beside him in the pea gravel. He looked over to what I was doing and before getting up he said, "hi, gigi-ma".
For what it's worth, I found out that about a year later, that park which had stood there for over 40 years was torn down and paved over... but these memories will be around for a while.
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