The Last Skate

I wasn't born with the perfect figure or the best coordination, but my dream was to be an amazing figure skater someday. So, my parents knowing what the cost and requirements chose to invest in having a property with a pond, so I could skate on it during the winter months.

I was only 3 when I decided that this was my dream. Nothing could sway me from it. Not the thin girls at school who told me I was too chunky (like peanut butter), nor the coaches who I could feel their frustration when I just couldn't get a spin right. None of that would stop me.

My parents were always encouraging. They knew how to find the best in everything. When they had the pond dug out of our backyard they made sure that it would be the best habitat for wildlife and not create a flood plain. Every summer we would swim and fish on the pond, which was the majority of our 10 acre back yard. I even learned how to swim out there. My first kiss with Jake Harkness was out there. He had cleverly used the guise of a group project to come over and spend time with me. After we had gone as far as we could manage that day, we walked out to the pond. I remember it was a chilly fall evening and the maple trees had just turned their lovely golden red. The smell of leaves burning had drifted over to our yard from the neighbors burning brush pile. Jake took my hands into his to warm them up. He told me that he had always wondered what they felt like and when I looked up at him in shock, he leaned in to kiss me. What girl could have resisted that? I didn't. He was my first love and my first heartbreak. We just wanted different things, but we lasted several summers before that happened.

When I went off to college my parents kept up the tradition of weekend skates for friends and family. It was always fun to invite people out and show them my skills. I actually received a scholarship for skating. That was a really proud moment when my coaches who didn't believe in me got to see me succeed, but without their help. I'd long stopped receiving lessons after a teacher intentionally tripped me to prove a point about paying attention. My parents began coaching me and eventually once I was in high school I was competing on weekends. While I was not the best skater I wasn't as terrible as others wanted me to be. The scholarship was still a pleasant surprise. Sure I had hoped I'd get it, but never thought it would actually happen. Eventually I would graduate college with honors. I wasn't ever able to compete on the national level or become an Olympic figure skater as I had originally dreamed, but what I ended up doing was much better.

After realizing what I really wanted was to teach others in a healthy and supportive way, like my parents had with me, I started coaching in a town not far from my own. Eventually I even made it to an Olympic coach, which was beyond my wildest dreams. Nothing felt like having the joy of watching people I loved and care about succeed and it wasn't because I was amazing figure skater; it was because I was a loving and supportive person who could see what people really needed to achieve their dreams.

Now as I sit at the edge of the pond at my childhood home, now my home. My parents long gone, in the twilight years of my life...I lace my skates up for the last time. To skate through my memories and appreciate all that this pond has given me over the years. From the memories of my father showing me how to gut a fish, the many skating lessons and nasty falls I endured while existing on this pond. It almost feels like saying goodbye to an old friend as the blade of my skate touches the ice. The skish skish of my skates as they glide across the pond and my muscles remember the old moves like an ancient ritual being performed one final time. Each twirl, every bend of muscle, a conversation between my memories telling me life has been wonderful and the future is certain. Time has flowed so effortlessly as I make laps around the pond, I wonder if the next family to experience it will appreciate it like my family has. As my children and grandchildren have and my parents with me before that. Hot tears begin to flow from my eyes crystalizing upon my face as I allow them to exist. All the feelings of joy and sadness are a rollercoaster across my body, mind and soul as I finally feel the time to stop grow near. At 78 years young, I, Genevieve Samwell, am leaving the pond one last time. There is a new future for me, a new home ahead. The best has already come, but there is still more adventures for me, it just won't be here. Perhaps someday it will be among the stars, but for now I am just moving on to the next chapter.