night lights

My whole body hurts a thin membrane of pain running below my skin and I can’t sleep.  No matter what I do I can’t get BC to move over.  But I think I know why: his side of the bed, the side I abandoned as my own after my sister died, is scary.  We have a King size bed and together we sleep on the space of a twin.  I make lists in my head.  Five things about me: 1) what I love best about BC is the way he smells & the way his skin feels 2) I have a weakness for grape soda 3) a passionate dislike of the number 8 3)  my claustrophobia is getting worse  4) so is my vision 5) I wake up at 3:13 every single night  

I push against BC’s body trying to gain precious inches, enough to roll over.  I think of Beach asleep on the sofa on the other side of the wall from the scary part of the bed.  I was surprised to find it still scary.  The night before last when the mysterious thumb print bruise appeared below my skin on the side of my knee I slept over there so I could sleep with the heating pad.  Tonight as BC moved in for his death grip of love hold on me I whispered “Your side of the bed is scary.”  He squeezed me and asked me “Scary from what?” “My sister” I said too tired to care how stupid it would sound.  He squeezed tighter laughing and said “I will protect you.”  

And there is Beach past the scary dark space sound asleep.  How she had been scooped up from her first Level 6 practice by a Team Meeting.  She had sat on my lap in her leo and played with a small white ball of clay.  I thought about my run and my knee and the way my skin feels like it is separating from the body beneath it.  I feel like I am bleeding out.  I thought about the way I was taken aback with the discovery about the way her little group of 7 had been split within the new larger class now totaling 23.  Some of the girls are much older, some aren’t staying long they will be moving on to level 7 in a few months.  It is just the way it happened this year.  Our little level 5 along with the older level 5 graduated into level 6 before the level 6 girls move to 7.  It is an amazing opportunity for our Littles to mingle with girls whose skills are about 2 levels above their own.

When I entered the gym Beach was on the first beam.  I slipped past unnoticed and watch her.  23 girls is too many together on some rotations so the 2 coaches divide and conquer.  The divide put 5 of the Littles on one side and Beach plus only one other to the other group.  It was harsh.  There was Beach among the big girls looking mighty and scared and very, very small.  The rest of her friends on the other side of the gym easily spotted in their tight short pack at bars.

In the meeting the reason was given matter of fact by the coaches: the girls will be split and it will be by ability, deal with it, it is in their best interest, it will change, girls will move back and forth, it doesn’t mean anything…

Beach’s account was tearful whine of loneliness, of fear, of being lost.  She kept repeating “I was in shock” I tried to steer her to the good.  I tried to tell her she wasn’t alone.  I tried to tell her, her coaches were there to catch her.  She countered with “I was in shock.  I was all alone."  She tells me how she broke down and cried to her coach.  Part of me is fearful her emotions will set her back and I don’t want her coaches to listen to her fears.  And part of me wants them to.  And part of me embarrassingly just wants to know how she did in level 6 but separating the gymnast from the little girl who thought she had been feed to the wolves was like trying to peel a single piece of string.  BC tried too but his speech of ‘you need to get used to being with bigger better kids because you're good’ ended in more tears. 

I lay in bed thinking about the dark scary space on the over side of BC, thinking about the dark scary space between Beach and her teammates.  With a crack of light between the mountains and the clouds comes clarity and gratitude for the pending dawn.  She is scared but I am not.  I know without a doubt her coaches have her.  She is learning.  She will get over it.  She will adjust.  And hopefully with the skills she is gaining she will grow into an adult who is brave enough to sleep anywhere she damn well pleases.

Five things about Beach: 1) she loves gymnastics 2) she is legally blind out of her left eye 3) she loves her coaches like second mothers 4) she loves her friends like siblings 5) she cries only when she feels safe enough to.

Her little words roam my mind, “Wendy saved my life on bars tonight.  She caught me when I was falling.  My cast is too powerful and I am peeling off…”  It is such a strange mix.  I laugh out loud. It stirs BC in the blankets but he doesn't wake.  It is her own power she is afraid of.  Unharnessed power is her dark scary space but in that space her coaches are lights guiding her safely through.  Hands that hold her, words that raise her, powerful women who catch her when she falls, listen to her fears, and show her how to get back up again.

And the scary dark space on the other side of the bed is expelled by the bright light of morning.

And tonight we do it all over again.