Letters to Nowhere #1 (Completed!)

Letters to Nowhere: Part 27

February 12

Jordan,

There's still one magazine under the bathroom sink. I'm afraid to tell you because I have a feeling you'll tell me it's a rite of passage into adulthood to look at porn and not have to cover my eyes, but I'm not sure I can do that. Also, do you really need to shave Every. Single. Day? If you're trying to impress me with your manly ability to grow hair quickly, I'd rather just have the extra 15 minutes in the bathroom.

Thank you, Karen

P.S. After reading your essay on Catcher in the Rye from last year, I've decided that you are most definitely smarter than me. And I really, really hate knowing that.

 

"Have you done any goal planning or mental toughness exercises in gymnastics?"

Jackie smiled after seeing my startled expression. She'd told me awhile back that I had to translate gymnastics for her, so the last thing I expected was for her to understand the mental training required at my level.

"You look surprised," she laughed. "In grad school I worked with collegiate athletes and did my thesis on the results of mental training programs. Mostly cross-country, soccer, track and field. No gymnastics."

"We do weekly goal setting and mental toughness exercises with Stacey, our beam coach."

"Perfect," Jackie said. "Then go ahead and tell me some of your short-term goals."

I twisted my hands in my lap. "Well, I'm leaving for National Team training camp tomorrow. I'd like to do well there."

"And if you do?" she prompted.

          I shrugged. "Guess I'm not sure exactly what will happen, but the committee could select me to compete in the American Cup in April. That's a pretty big deal and it would be my first senior international meet, but they're only picking three girls, so it's a long shot."

            "And if you don't get picked, then what?"

            "Keep training," I answered without hesitation. "The camps are a chance for them to check in and see how everyone's skills are looking and how the coaches are doing. It's cumulative and we have another one next month."

            Jackie x-rayed me with her therapist laser-beam eyes. "Does the fact that you're supposed to be heading to UCLA in June hurt your chances with these National Team Committee people? College gymnastics is like retiring for you, isn't it?"

            I drew in a deep breath. Grandma must have told her about UCLA. I looked down at my hands again. "I don't know. The last camp I went to was before we announced that I'd signed on with UCLA." Stacey had gone with us to the last couple of camps and she hadn't mentioned UCLA to anyone. Neither had Bentley. It was Coach Cordes who had let the cat out of the bag right before Christmas by posting something on the Bruins' gymnastics team Facebook page.

            "I see," Jackie said. "I'm giving you another assignment. I'd like you to bring in a list of your long-term goals beyond this training camp and beyond June."

            Long-term goals. Like the plan Dad had made me and Mom write down. And the compromise plan he'd come up with. The plan I was currently debating whether or not I should void in their absence. Just thinking it made me feel guilty. And yet, I still wanted everything I'd wanted that day in the kitchen with my parents. If anything, the dream was even more alive in their absence. It represented a part of my past that included them.

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