J has always been a very perseverant little person. Last evening she finally managed to turn cartwheels on the couch after three months of concerted effort. I celebrated her success with her even as I realize her athletic career (beyond reasonable doubt) is ab initio void.
I spent the school years reading under the shade of a tree as my friends sweated it out on the basketball court. R's (my ex) solitary claim to sporting fame was that he played a mean game of chess. J's tenaciousness can't possibly overcome the odds of such terrible genes.
My mother wrote me off at seven when I straggled to the finish line twenty minutes after prizes were given away to the winner and runners-up of the lemon-and-spoon race. She expended no further energies on my athletic ambitions and instead made me a junior member of the local library. She was wise to cut her losses early.
In the life of every mother there comes to pass such moments of epiphany.
crossings as in traversals, contradictions, counterpoints of the heart though often not..
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