To Skate or not to Skate

I moved from Minnesota to Arizona right after college graduation in 1987. When my father passed a couple of years ago, 10 days after my husband's passing, it felt important to spend time with my mom and four siblings. I scheduled two weeks off, grateful to have that option.

Although the purpose for our gathering was sad, we made sure to have some fun times with our traditional card game, Shanghai, cooking together, making some fabulous music together, and sharing memories.

When I was chatting with my younger sister, Andrea, somehow, the subject of a roller-skating trip gone awry came up. At 17, I was driving, Andrea, then 11, and our brother, John, then a very athletic 6-year-old. We were going to a town 50 miles north of ours, Bemidji, that had a big rink with lights. Our little town offered ice skating but not roller-skating. Since I never liked the cold, I had convinced our parents to let us have a little adventure.

Andrea said, "I remember how you ran into that fox. I was so scared."

I shook my head. "No, it was a rabbit, and I didn't hit it. I swerved to avoid it. There was ice on the road, and we ended up in the ditch facing the wrong way. I thought my heart was going to beat out of my chest."

Andrea said, "You messed up the car so much that we went home."

"Do you have a brain injury? The car had a tiny ding in the door, and we still went skating."

"No way. I remember going home..."

"Yeah, after skating."

"No, instead of. I remember worrying how much trouble you were going to be in and wondering if John and I would be in trouble too."

"We went home after skating. Mom and Dad were happy we were okay, but the skating had a dark cloud over it, which may be why you've got it all wrong."

"I do not have it wrong. You hit a fox and we went home. End of story."

"No, I swerved to avoid a rabbit, and we fishtailed and spun around into the ditch. We were lucky there was no traffic coming from the other direction, and that I could drive us on to the rink in Bemidji, where we went skating."

"We did NOT..."

"What are you guys arguing about?" John had snuck up on us.

I said, "We're not... Well, okay, I guess we are arguing, but it's not anything serious. Then I asked, "John, do you remember when we went roller-skating in Bemidji when you were young?"

"Yeah, that was the best! I learned to skate backwards that day. We had so much fun. You guys even bought me a drink and some French fries at the concession stand."

Andrea and I looked at each other and then back at John.

She asked, "But do you remember the accident? The fox?"

I chimed in, "She means the rabbit."

His brows wrinkled. "What accident? I just remember having a great time with my big sisters."

I shrugged and looked at Andrea. "Good enough?"

She nodded, "Good enough."

We had a group hug.

Some memories are better left to ourselves.

*
Author's note: My brother, John, is a physical education teacher in the Twin Cities. He has three children. My sister, Andrea, moved to Alaska many years ago to homestead with her husband. After babysitting for me once, she said, "I'm never having kids." They have six - two of whom now live in the Phoenix area. My other two brothers are great too! They just weren't involved in this story. Well, in my recollection.