Dusting off the skates

The frozen pond, my safe place, my place to search my soul, find answers hidden deep within. When I was a child, my dad would wake up at 6:00 am to bring me to the rink to skate. I could still hear his voice, smell the coffee, see his bright eyes smiling at me. He always smiled with his eyes. I felt special, safe, and loved. He would sip his coffee while I warmed up with two of my friends, stretch, do laps until the shriek of the whistle would blow for each of our skating lessons. My skating teacher was a legend, she won a gold medal in the Olympics many years ago. She was tough, she expected us to give 100% to each lesson and push us to the brink.

I remember the sound of the blades on the ice, the feel of the breeze on my face when I was skating fast, the smell of the rink, the rush when I landed a double axel. The freedom when I let myself go when the music was on and practice my solo. One designed for me, so detailed, precise, the rhythm of my blades and music in unison. I loved to skate, the connection of me and my dad was unbreakable. This was our time to share, just me. I would skate to him after each jump, spin, footwork whether it was successful or not, he was my cheerleader, my sounding board, my life line.

Then one day my world crashed, my heart broke into a million pieces when my dad was in an accident at work. He worked in a mine shaft digging for gold with a backhoe when the shaft caved in and there were no survivors. The day was a normal day in November, up early to the rink, then my dad dropping me off to school before he started his day at work. If I only new that was the last day to see him, talk to him, lean on him, I would tell him how much I loved him and say goodbye. After school, I would take the bus to the rink and wait for my dad to pick me up, he never came.

That day was the last day I skated, I couldn’t do it without him. I had no energy to get up in the early mornings, I couldn’t face the day without the smell of the coffee, his smiling eyes. High school was a blur, and when I graduated he wasn’t there. I searched for him everywhere I went, a hint of cologne, a deep barrel laugh, a tall slender man, smiling eyes. Always just out of reach, but there somehow.

The busy life of the college years seemed to make it easier, meeting new people, homework, study sessions, sports, new place to live. One winter I went back home for study break, dusted off my skates and decided to go to the frozen pond.

At the edge of the pond was a bench to sit on to tie skates, take a break. My breath in the cool air was refreshing. Once I had on my skates the joy of the familiar sounds rushed through my body. The freedom, the joy, the breeze on my face. I felt like I was in a dream, the skates new what to do.

The rush of adrenaline come flooding in, the memories flooded my mind and I felt connected again . I thought to myself why it took me so long to dust off the skates. Perhaps, I was scared that I wouldn’t remember.

Everyday I would go to the pond on my school brake to release the tension of school, to brake free of the responsibilities of my new life, then it happened. …

The last day of my brake, the air was still, my skates glided across the pond with ease when I skated into an open spot in the ice. My eyes were closed enjoying the moment when my body fell through the opening. The freezing water hit me so fast, I barely caught my breath, before I went under.

I could see the thin layer of ice over head while I tried to find the opening. My legs could barely kick to keep me close to the surface because my skates felt like wights fighting against my will to survive. I was panicked, my heart racing, my eyes burning looking through the freezing waters. When I felt a hand reach for my arm and pulled me out.

I saw his face, his smiling eyes looking at me, above me looking down at me. He said, “baby girl, it’s not your time, please continue to skate, enjoy your life, you don’t need to search any longer I will always be by your side.” Then, he was gone.

I heard yelling from across the pond, telling me not to move, help was on the way. I felt the rope around my waist pulling me into shore. I wanted to stay, looking back. The rope continuing to pull me closer to the people calling my name.

When I woke in the hospital with my mom standing over me, my best friend, and boyfriend I new for the first time that I was going to be ok. Several years later when I brought my kids to the frozen pond to skate with me I was at peace. New sounds of kids laughing, the howling winds, the sound of my husbands voice ignited a spark that skating was now my place of happiness after so much heartbreak. I smiled and felt him beside me, I was at peace.