Grief-Stricken

By: Sofie Mintz

I love gymnastics! There’s nothing quite like the feeling of the wind rushing through my ears as I run through my routine. We have a competition coming up in a month, and we practice every day. I am especially good at the bars, but I’m also skilled at the balance beam.

My name is Ellieanna Ericson, but I prefer to go by Ellie. Although I am an only child, I consider my teammates my sisters. Right now, I’m in school, sitting in my favorite class, social studies. My teacher is discussing George Washington and how he became the first president.

Suddenly, the intercom buzzes, and Principal Jenson’s voice comes on:  

“Ellieanna Ericson, please come to the office. Ellieanna Ericson to the office.”  

I stared at my teacher, who motioned for me to come to the front.  

“Go down to the office,” Mrs. Heart, my teacher, said. “You won’t miss anything.”  I nodded and left the room, wondering if I was in trouble. I hurried down the stairs and to Principal Jenson’s office. When I arrived, Principal Jenson was standing outside her door as if she had been waiting for me.

“Come in, my dear,” Principal Jenson said, waving me into her office. I sat down in the chair across from her as she settled into her seat at the desk. “I have some troubling news for you. Your mother had to go to the hospital this morning.”

“What!?” I exclaimed, shocked. When I left for school that morning, Mom had seemed perfectly fine. “Why?”

“She was having brunch with your neighbor when she started choking. Your neighbor tried to help her, but they couldn’t dislodge the food, so she called an ambulance, and they took your mother to the hospital.”

“Will Mom be alright?” I asked anxiously.

“Yes, they’ve connected her to a breathing tube,” Principal Jenson assured me. If you’d like, I can call your father to come and pick you up to see your mother.”

“I would appreciate that,” I said, feeling relieved that Principal Jenson wouldn’t make me return to class. Principal Jenson called my father, hung up, and said, “Your father is on his way. You can get your backpack. I will inform your teacher that you won’t return today.”

“Thank you, Principal Jenson,” I said, feeling grateful. I left the office and went to my locker to grab my stuff. Dad was waiting for me when I returned to Principal Jenson’s office. He hugged me, thanked Principal Jenson, and we went outside to our car.

On the way to the hospital, I asked tentatively, “Have you seen Mom yet?”  

“No, I was going to, but something came up that I had to work on.”  

“Do you think she’ll die?” I asked.  

“No, I don’t think she will die,” Dad responded.  

For the rest of the drive to the hospital, Dad and I remained silent. When we arrived at the hospital, I was feeling very nervous. Dad noticed because he stopped, turned around, and said, “Hey, I know you’re feeling nervous, but it’s going to be alright. Mom might look a little different with all of the tubes, but inside, she is the same Mom. She still loves you.”

I took a deep breath and we walked inside. Dad talked to the lady at the front desk, and she told us to go to room 437 on the third floor. Dad opened the door when we arrived at Mom’s room, and I followed him inside. Mom was lying on her bed, and Dad was right; Mom did have a lot of tubes, but she didn’t look that different. She still had the same loving and beautiful face, but she looked weak. I went around to her side of the bed, and she smiled at me. I smiled back and brushed the back of my hand across her cheek. Mom reached up, took my hand, and pressed it to herself.

“Honey,” Mom said softly, “I love you, always remember that. I will get better, and I will be home soon.”

“I love you too, Mom,” I said, and then I broke down. I curled up beside Mom on her bed and cried. After Principal Jenson had told me that Mom was at the hospital, I felt the tears coming, but I had forced myself not to cry. Now that I had seen Mom and was at the hospital, I started crying. Mom rubbed my back as I lay there crying on her shoulder. After a while, I stopped crying, but I lay still on the bed, and Dad kept standing where he was.

Soon, Dad said, “I think it’s time to let your mother rest, Ellie. Anyway, it’s almost dinner time.” I nodded, hugged Mom one more time, and then followed Dad out, like a sad puppy. When we got home, I went to my room to practice for our competition. Four years ago, when I decided I wanted to start gymnastics, Mom and Dad bought a balance beam and a set of uneven bars. I started my routine on bars, but I kept messing up. Finally, I got up, threw myself on my bed, and started crying.

“Ellie,” Dad called upstairs, “time for dinner.” I wiped my eyes on my sleeve and went downstairs for dinner. Dad probably noticed that I had been crying, but he didn’t say anything. That’s one thing I love about Dad—he respects my space and my emotions. 

The next day was Saturday, so as soon as I finished getting ready and ate breakfast, I ran upstairs to practice my routine a couple of times before I needed to leave for gymnastics practice. I messed up a few times, but unlike last night, I didn’t break down in tears. I just kept going.

Ten minutes later, I was getting out of Dad’s car when I heard someone yell my name. I waved to Dad as he drove off, then turned around just in time to see one of my best friends run up to me and give me a big bear hug. 

“I missed you so much!” Alyssa exclaimed excitedly. 

  “I missed you too!” I replied with just as much enthusiasm. “How was your vacation?” 

  “it was awesome!” Alyssa chattered about her trip to Hawaii as we got ready for practice and headed out to the mats. We had been best friends since kindergarten. 

  “Alright, girls,” Coach Lilly called, motioning for us to gather around her. “We have a big competition coming up, and we need to practice. Are any of you doing bars?” 

  I raised my hand along with a few other girls. 

  “Okay, you can go and start working on your routines, but remember, we only have two sets, so you’ll have to take turns.” 

I nodded and followed the other girls to the two sets of bars. While waiting for my turn, I put chalk on my hands. When it was my turn, I started my routine, but halfway through, I fell, landing on my hand. I clenched my teeth against the pain and started again. You might wonder, why didn’t I wait until my turn again? Coach Lilly has a rule: if you fall during your routine, you have to keep practicing it until you don’t fall. 

  Unfortunately, I fell again at the same spot. I tried over and over, but I kept falling at that same point in my routine. Eventually, I gave up and sat down on the side of one of the mats. I watched the other girls run through their routines; only a few of them fell, and if they did, it was only a couple of times, unlike my six falls.

  Eventually, Coach Lilly noticed that I wasn’t practicing and came over to see what was wrong. 

  “Hey, Ellie,” she said. “What’s wrong?” 

  “I keep messing up,” I muttered. 

  “Everyone messes up,” Coach Lilly tried to reassure me. 

   “Yeah, but I messed up at the same spot every single time.” 

“That just means you need to practice more,” Coach Lilly said. “Why don’t you go try it again?” 

“Okay,” I agreed. I got back in line and put more chalk on my hands. When it was my turn, I took a deep breath and started my routine again. This time, I didn’t fall at the same spot as before, but I did fall just over halfway through. I kept practicing my routines until it was time to leave. I hopped into the car just as Dad asked, 

“How was practice?”

“It was good,” I said, “I kept falling off the bars.”

“I’m sorry, did you keep trying?”

“Yeah, but it wasn’t until I gave up, sat out a while, and tried again that I finally did better. The last time I ran through my routine before you picked me up, I had performed perfectly,” I exclaimed happily.

“Good for you!” Dad said, smiling at me. I smiled back at him. We got back home and I ran upstairs to read one of my favorite books. I lay on my stomach on my bed and started reading for, like, the fourth time.

I finished the book and sighed. I wish there were a second book, I thought. I took a drink from my water bottle that I kept in my room and put chalk on my hands. I took a deep breath and started my routine. I didn’t fall, but I messed up a couple of times. I kept practicing until Dad called me downstairs for lunch. I walked downstairs to the smell of my favorite lunch; pulled pork and green beans. Mom and Dad have always switched which days they cooked for as long as I can remember, if Mom cooked on Monday, Dad would cook on Tuesday, and they would switch off every other day.

The next morning, I was up and ready for gymnastics practice long before Dad was up. I chalked up my hands and started on my bars. I fell several times, but I didn’t let that get to me. I needed all of my enthusiasm and happiness for practice, and letting myself think about how bad I was doing was going to take that away. After I had run through my routine a couple of times, I started a new book until Dad was ready to drop me off at practice.

“Hey, where are we going?” I asked, realizing that we weren’t going toward the gymnastics studio.

“I thought we could pay a visit to your mother,” Dad said without looking up from the road. “If that’s alright with you.”

“Of course,” I said, surprised that he would think that I wouldn’t want to see my mother. “I’d love to see Mom.” We pulled into the hospital parking lot, got out, and went outside. Dad talked to the lady at the front desk, and she waved us to the hallway. Dad and I found our way to room 437, where I opened the door and went over to Mom’s side.

“Hi Mom,” I said, smiling at her.

“Hi sweetie,” Mom said weakly, but she smiled back at me. She squeezed my hand. “Are you excited for your competition? Do you think you are ready?”

“Yeah, I’m excited,” I said, adding, “I think I will be ready if I practice more.”

Dad and I stayed in Mom’s room talking to Mom until it was time for us to leave for gymnastics. I waved to Mom as we left her room, and I saw her wave back. We drove to the studio, and as I got out, I was nearly tackled to the ground. As Dad left, I wrestled myself away from Alyssa and walked with her into the studio. Coach Lilly talked to us about the competition and then she dismissed us to go work on our routines. As I waited for my turn I chalked up my hands and when it was my turn I started my routine off perfectly but then fell from the highest bar and landed on my hand. Pain shot up my fingers, up my wrist, and into my arm. I curled up into a ball and as much as I wanted to not cry, the tears flowed down my face anyway. My teammates surrounded me but they backed up when Coach Lilly told them to. She helped me stand up and walk over to the bench near the bars. When the other girls noticed that I would be alright they started practicing their routines again.

“Are you okay Ellie?” Coach Lilly asked concern filling her face.

“I will be,” I mumbled wincing in pain. “Eventually.” The tears kept flowing down my face.

“Does it hurt that bad?” Coach Lilly asked. I shook my head, took a few deep breaths, and started speaking.

“A couple of days ago my Mom went to the hospital because she was having a lot of trouble breathing. I’ve visited her twice once the day she was admitted to the hospital and then this morning. I’m scared that she won’t live long enough to go to my competition.”

“Ellie,” Coach Lilly scooted closer to me and hugged me. We stayed there until she pulled away and wiped my tears away. “Your mom is a strong and loving mother. I’m sure she will be fine, and even if she doesn’t make it, she will be in your heart.” 

I nodded and stopped crying but I still felt horrible.

“Can I see your wrist?”

I nodded and Coach Lilly gently lifted my wrist and rubbed it. I winced but stayed still.

“I’ll be back,” Coach Lilly left but was soon back with adhesive tape. She sat down next to me and wrapped my wrist with the tape. When she was done my wrist instantly felt better, but it was still sore when I rotated my wrist. “Do you think you can practice?”

I hesitated then nodded. I stood up and got back in line. While I waited my turn, I chalked up my hands. When it was my turn I took a deep breath, jumped up to the bar, and started my routine. It was perfect! I kept working on it until Dad picked me up. At home, I ran upstairs, threw myself on my bed, and started reading.

The day of the competition I was very nervous but I remembered what Coach Lilly had said a couple of weeks ago. That morning as Dad drove me to the competition he said, “I have a surprise for you, but you won’t find out until it is your turn.” I was very confused but we have a rule in our house to not guess the surprise before you find out.

When it was my turn I smiled at Coach Lilly, took a deep breath, and completed a perfect routine on the bars. I was so happy, and then I noticed a familiar face in the crowd; Mom.  I gasped and ran to hug her. I was so happy that she was out of the hospital. That night I found out that I had won the competition!