A couple of weeks ago I took three of my grandchildren to Skate Zone 71, on Sinclair Road. The roller-skating rink has been around a long time. I believe it used to be called USA Skate.
I had not been there for over 30 years. Of course, it was much more expensive than my last visit. In addition to the wooden floor rink and high-priced concession stand there are electronic games and some sort of chamber for laser tag. Fortunately for my wallet, all the kids wanted to do was skate, and they only hit me up for two slushes and one milkshake.
My grandchildren, like 95 of the adults and children skating that day, have their own roller skates. Most of them are in-line skates, similar to ice skates. Most of them light up at the wheels. Another new addition to the rink is the introduction of rolling walkers so that children, a little unsteady on their skates, could stand behind plastic devices that kept them on their feet. I wish those had been around years ago, not for kids but for me!
My grandchildren rolled around the rink as if it were the easiest thing in the world. They were fast and could shift directions easily to avoid slower skaters. I was impressed with their agility. Most of the people on the rink were children. There were parents patiently guiding their little ones around as well. The few solo adults skated with a joyful fluid motion that made me jealous.
I was not allowed to skate. My children, my wife, as well as my grandchildren made that explicitly clear. Aside from bicycling, which miraculously I can do with relative ease and comfort, I am not a good athlete in any other physical endeavors. These days, I sometime find walking a challenge without tripping over my dragging feet, so I was ordered to sit and watch.
On my last visit, my oldest daughter who is now 44 years old was a student at Our Lady of Peace. The Home and School had a roller-skating night at that same rink as a fundraiser for their organization. Although I had skated only a few times in my life I had foolish confidence in my abilities, and I did lace up a pair of skates. They were the old-fashioned high-tops with four wheels. I was shaky and slow, and I managed to make my way around the circle more than a few times.
The longer I skated the more comofortable I felt which, as it turned out, was a big mistake. At one point I remember saying to myself, “This is not so hard.” I went a little faster and even managed to pick my feet up a bit as I traveled.
And then it happened. Ahead of me was one of Lauren’s classmates. I was moving faster than she was. I needed to move either to the right or the left of her. As I got closer, I found myself unable to do either. I rear-ended the poor girl as if I were a semi-truck plowing into one of those little Smart cars. I braced myself for the upcoming collision. But my daughter’s friend had no idea what was about to befall her. I didn’t even have time to warn her. Wham! When it was over, I was sprawled out on the rink floor with my daughter’s friend underneath me.
Fortunately, she was not hurt. My daughter had always looked up to me. I was her dad. I was with her through her open-heart surgery. I read her books and sang to her at night. I helped her with her homework. Now, literally, she was looking down at me. In horror. Any notion I had of being the “cool” Dad was certainly shattered that night.
God grants each of us gifts. Watching the athletes in recent Olympics, enjoying the young adults dancing on the gym floor at the recent Valentine’s dance, cheering on the amazing footwork and stamina of the Crew players, I sometimes envy them and wish that I were a little more agile. But God has given me so much other things to be thankful for, so I take appreciation in them. And watching healthy grandchildren rolling around a rink with ease is certainly one of those blessings!
Jim Silcott