Walkers and Sitters

My mother told me there are two kinds of people: walkers and sitters. She married into a family of sitters, with the exception of my father, who straddled the two camps. In my mother's view, people at parties with the exception of those without mobility, of course, needed to fulfill their obligation to make the fete a success. That is what accepting an invitation means: the exact opposite of depositing one's behind in some stray chair instead of circulating and stimulating some connective tissue and zest among invitees. I was brought up on proactivity.  My mother only sat under duress. With dinner guests, I share her fault of hopping up and fetching and bringing various cups and plates to keep things moving. My mother approved wholeheartedly of allt her children's social tendencies. She generous and alive and felt others' pain. She listened as though the speaker were the most interesting and important loved person in the world. To honor her, I sprint, I pace, I race everywhere. I find excuses to move about the neighborhood, the world, the known universe. I have earned top honors in the for non-sitter category of my mother's affection.