gold, silver, and bronze

When I think about it I remember the sunlight.  A quiet winter afternoon, warm enough to not need a jacket.  The smell of the zoo; straw, musk, tar, and hot plastic with overtones of popcorn. Beach, small for her age, flaunting her climbing skills atop a bronze statue of a rhino.

"She should be in gymnastics," he said to my shoulder.

I turned to look him the eyes.  In my head, a blackboard covered with mechanical force equations.  Open notes on human anatomy, comparative vertebrate morphology, and pathways of human evolution none of which included flipping upside multiple times on a 4-inch beam.

And Russians.  Don't forget the screaming Russians.

"Over my dead body..." I replied.

Nine years later, that gymnastics coach visiting SLC from Georgia certainly would get a good laugh at me.

The scene from the car on Saturday mid-morning the smell of fresh flowers filling the warm spring air.  I turned to Beach, "This is normal, right?  Buying flowers and picking up friends to go to a sporting event.  Normal people do this."

Normal.  It's jumble of words; pancakes, cartoons, library, green grass, soccer.

On the days I work before we leave for the gym I lay on my bed and close my eyes.  I try to soak up all the smells and sounds of being home.  Cedar, sun, warm cotton, and coffee.  If we weren't doing this if I could only stay home if we could slip off into the mountains if there was nowhere to always be...

But we are doing this because it is who she is.

So I drove around the valley.  Then drove to Ogden for the second time in 2 days.  Paid $10 for a gold paper wrist band that goes well with my pink one from Friday.

The minute we got there the girls slipped off together down the halls.  I talked with the parents of the Level 8's.  Stood with them until it was time for them to go. 

I climbed the bleachers and found a spot on the back row so I could lean against the wall.  I sat alone between parents from other gyms completely invisible watching the 10's.

What hasn't been said was that Sophie did not attend State.  In fact, she has not been in the gym to work out for over a week.  Her official retirement holding until after State Meet so not to distract her teammates from their training.

The slow drifting apart between Soph and Beach has been hard to watch.

Without Sophie's refusal to ever take Beach seriously Beach's stoic default has drifted back over her like gray clouds around a mountain.  Unchallenged, Beach holds the weight of the world on her shoulders.                 

When the Meet was all over the girls trailed me through the parking lot. I drove to a drive-thru, ordered big milkshakes and salty fries to keep the backseat happy for the long drive home.

Sunday morning 6am I woke up and googled; what day is St. Patrick's Day?

Whispered "shit-shit!" as I threw on a coat and shoes and head for the grocery store for a "pot of gold" for a 15-year-old child.   

Spent 10 minutes winding light blue string around the house until it was nearly impossible to get around.  Tied one end to the hidden "pot of gold" and tossed the rest of the ball onto her bed.  It landed softly just below her nose.  She didn't even stir.

My Little Giant.  Two gold medals.  One for her perseverance and bravery on Vault and the other for making a double turn on Floor.  A bronze medal for her bars, a routine that crushed her heart.  She works harder on bars than any other event.  It hurts her back,  It hurts her soul.  But she keeps on going.

And one silver medal in the All Around to hang in her clouds. 

When we were picking out the graduating sr bouquet standing among all the beautiful flowers you could think of, Beach told me she wants only sunflowers in hers. Golden sunflowers, silver linings, and bronze statues.
 

Gymnasts, salute.