The Unbearable Burden of Opportunity Lost
Empty pegs: a gymnast’s story, part I
The walls of old New England homes are stuffed.
Pictures memorialize family and generations gone before. Paintings show places traveled. Pegs near doors hold the hats, scarves, and jackets that protect us from the outside world.
Some pegs hold things that are heavy: coats dripping from winter’s blast or bags bearing gear for skiing or a summer day at the beach. These things rest, suspended over the floor. Easy to see. Hard to overlook.
In our home, over time, we came to realize that it is the empty pegs that carry the most unbearable burden: the weight of loss.
From the age of five, Ben begged to do gymnastics.
Understanding the harshness of the sport, his mother discouraged the passion.
Why not soccer? Or art? Wrestling, even?
We made an early concession and allowed him a gymnastics birthday party: a joyous hour. The following summer, we relented again and permitted a week-long recreational gymnastics camp.
It was just a few days of fun. Right?
Wrong.
Within a few weeks, Ben’s soft little boy hands were gone. Twelve hours of practice across five days each…
