Cartwheels in The Mall

My favorite activity when I was a girl was turning cartwheels. I don’t know when, or how, I learned to do them, but by the time I was five I could encircle our house without walking a step. Cartwheels mimic the turning of a wheel, and maybe that’s why I loved this particular mode of covering ground more than any other, but it was ecstasy.

The most special day of all was engineered by my grandmother, Momo. Phoenix boasted the first “shopping mall”, it was called Park Central, and it was near our house. And one memorable morning, before I was old enough for school, she, my mom, and I went there. My mom went into Newberry’s, while Momo and I made use of the bench outside the store.

As soon as she left, my grandmother leaned over and said, “Tracy, there aren’t very many people here. Why don’t you see how many cartwheels it takes to go all the way to the end of the mall? I’ll count.” What? No lumpy grass? A flat surface, no obstacles, AND permission? Well, nothing could top it.

As I write this, I can feel the abandon with which I catapulted along the walls, never tiring. Momo counted, and I cartwheeled, back and forth, with her eyes always watching, knowing that energy needs a place to roam. And a person who has time to indulge it.

Sunday evening our daughter Mary and I took four granddaughters to Burger King. They like the food – it’s okay – but we go for another reason. And it began with a remembrance of that day so long ago with my grandmother at Park Central.

When we go to Burger King, I always set paths for the girls within the play area. They must do forward rolls through the tubes – or crawl through each tube twice before continuing – or walk backward on the flats. I set them a time limit. I count so they can hear, just as Momo did for me,and when they finally emerge from the slide, their foreheads beaded with sweat and eyes dancing, they yell “Grammy! It was hard, but I did it! Make it harder next time!” And so I do, feeling the topsy-turvy of my own body as I cartwheeled down that mall, and realizing that, as Solomon said, “There is nothing new under the sun.”

On our trips we don’t use hand sanitizer, and they all end the time with a child’s “I’ve played hard” essence.

That’s a good thing, too – thanks again, Momo.