the wall of dreams

I don't know. I watch her walk through the motions. I listen to her tell her younger nervous teammate how fun it is to compete at Westerns. How "easy" it goes. Under the words of a leader is fear. Fear for herself.

I see her in pain. I see her afraid she is failing. I see her trying not to let us all down. I see the sadness she is fighting. She is so scared she will not be able to compete floor.

At the last practice, she wandered around a strange gym. She hopped on a beam. She crisscrossed the floor in a-dance-through. She set bars for her mates and played floor music. She stared down the vault until her coach stepped in. She made perfect double turns and paid attention to her pointed toes. She did the best pirouettes on the bars I have ever seen.

It wasn't enough to break through the wall of doubt that pain is building around her body.

I know. I have been saying this all season. I don't think she can and then she does. It's not that I believe SHE isn't capable or deserving. She is. It's that time is stretching her out too thin. Dragging on her too long.

All she is asking is for one for time. One more chance to do what she does. One more moment to make a mark of color on the wall of dreams.

The prayer of a Gym Mom: If you fall may you rise with grace. But try not to fall. May the floor be springy but not too springy. And the right shade of blue. Let the beams not be slick or wobble when you punch (and far away from the crowds, that one is for me). May the bars be smooth, the chalk blocks plenties, and the landing mats magic. Bless the vault that it is exactly how you like it and your steps easy to find. And most importantly of all, let it be fun and let it be over.