I never liked playing jump rope when I was in school. Jumping rope on my own, counting jumps next to a friend, singing songs I can still recite, that was all fine. I just didn’t like jumping with a group. At recess the line would form and we would wait our turn to jump in while girls at either end twirled the rope in unison.
The rope would slap the cement and I would count 1-2-3 and will myself to jump in but I was always afraid. I winced at the thought of getting hit with the rope or tripping on my way in, bringing the rhythm to a stop. My heart started beating faster as I got to the front of the line, sure the song we were singing would come to a halt with my misstep and all would be quiet for a second because of me, until the rope began again and someone else jumped in place.
I have grown to be a terrible conversationalist with anyone new. I am leery of the back and forth, the questions and answers. There is so much that can go wrong. An unknowing mom could ask me how many children I have or a well-meaning receptionist might wonder aloud if I have twins. I’m afraid of being hit by the asking. I’d rather not stop the rhythm with my answers.
Sometimes it doesn’t sting, I can jump in and answer and say her name and hand over the next question to drown out loud silence but sometimes I am hit before I am ready and I can’t seem to recover. Sometimes I am standing there blinking, the rope ticking in front of me, eyes waiting or already moving past me, willing someone, anyone, to jump in and save us both.
I want carefree answers and laughing at preschool pick up or I want coffee with someone who can mirror my thoughts or maybe I want both.
Maybe I want easy and instead I ended up in line for double-dutch on one foot with my eyes closed…
which isn’t an impossible feat if you find the right people to twirl the rope over your head and under your feet.
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you blow me away, Jess. you just do. every time.
love for Hadley. love for all of you.
your way with words—so few of them that say so much—astounds me.
i can’t imagine what her absence feels like, but when read this, i feel like i come pretty close.
I know this game. The game of “do I bring up the child that I lost or do I just let it go for this one conversation?” Sometimes I simply say I have four boys, but more often than not I will mention Joey. Or the other boys will tell someone about their brother who died. It’s tough. Hugs, friend.
Oh my…. I can’t imagine what you’ve been through nor having to be reminded every time someone asks a simple question. Thank you for the analogy as it helps offer some level of insight for someone who hasn’t been through this. I hate when I ask a question trying to make conversation and there’s something I don’t know going on for the person I asked… makes me feel so bad and I get really awkward and usually make it worse while trying to make it better….
Oh goodness, I hated the jumping rope at school like that too. And I hate that you have reason to be leary of the new conversations. I’m so sorry.
I thought it was just me. I remember standing in line and getting more and more nervous as it got closer to my turn. Thanks for your support, as always, Elaine.
Just yesterday I tripped over the rope at work. Someone asked me how many kids I have. My answer started out strong but before long I was stumbling and then I just fell. Game over and I wanted to run out of the office. I didn’t run or disappear into the floor. I muddled through the casual conversation and trying desperately to balance my need to talk about Jake and Sawyer with the pity I could see all over the face of the person who asked the question.
Beautiful post. xo
That is exactly it, if you decide to share the truth then you have to muddle through the rest of a conversation. If you don’t, then you have to feel the stab of guilt.
I feel this way about the “are you done” question. Yes because we have to be? It’s a long story? We lost our last baby a few months ago? I think most people don’t expect a real answer, but I still feel the skipped heartbeat.
I think the same, that people don’t really expect a true answer. They hope for a quick answer that allows them to move on to the next typical question of conversation and when it doesn’t work that may no one knows what to do next.
What a fitting analogy the double dutch was. I think that certain things in life never do get easier and we’ll always experience a bit of that anxiety, but you handle everything in stride and with such grace. Don’t worry so much about finding the right answers, Jessica. The people you’ll always hold on to in life will be the ones who won’t wince, won’t drop the rope, but will guide you until you feel ready to get back in the game.
XOXO and I have SO VERY MUCH missed your words. Wonderful to be here again today.
Another beautiful post about the reality of living with loss every day. The person on the other side of your double dutch match is probably scared as well. Maybe if we hold hands, we can jump in together.
Love you, absolutely love you. That is all.
How beautiful. As always.
You express yourself so beautifully in writing, Jessica; it’s hard to imagine you fumbling for words. Have you considered writing out your responses to the typical questions? Forming the words just so, then saving them for the times they are needed? Being prepared ahead of time won’t remove the sting, but it could remove the anticipatory fear of the question.
This is a really beautiful analogy. (FWIW, I hated that moment, too, jumping in. I would much rather twirl.)
You are great at twirling and jumping in :).
I can understand why this would be so hard with so many landmines to tiptoe around. You write so eloquently about it though.
Yes, I totally agree! It is so hard to jump in blind and then struggle. I also struggle now as our youngest who is now 6 will sometimes answer for me that she has a brother in heaven. That’s when the dead silence sets in…:( You know?
Such a beautiful post. I have always been terrible at meeting new people, I am incredibly self-conscious, shy and introverted.
Wow! Sometimes you don’t think about the power of those casual questions or comments. But I think it is okay because I think that most people don’t mind if you get a little choked up with the answers becuase the emotion comes from real true place. In the end it is always easier to say the answers that are true to your heart and feel emotional than to say answers that are a lie.
When I started reading, my mind immediately went to double dutch… a beautiful analogy and something I think many of us can relate to on some level.
Loved this especially: “Maybe I want easy and instead I ended up in line for double-dutch on one foot with my eyes closed… which isn’t an impossible feat if you find the right people to twirl the rope over your head and under your feet.”
Beautiful post.
Such a beautiful post.
I so get it! Completely, 100%. I think we’d be good rope twirlers for each other! 🙂 Although double dutch always scared the crap out of me!
This is a great analogy! You are not alone in this. I am horrible at casual conversation…I can never figure how it should end. Especially, when I see an acquaintance while I’m shopping. I sometimes go the other way, just to avoid awkward conversation.