This morning just seeing her name can bring tears to my eyes. But nothing like last night. (Joannie is the young Canadian figure skater whose 55 year-old mother had a heart attack and died three days ago at the Olympics.)
So last night Joannie skated her short program. And I watched it and just had to keep taking deep breaths to avoid a flood of tears. How this girl mustered the composure to skate was beyond me. And I'm one of those people who can cry on command while viewing any emotionally charged sporting event, especially when there's heartbreak involved. So I knew watching Joannie's performance would be a challenge.
Dwayne was watching, too, only he also picked up my Weight Watchers magazine. I think he was desperate for anything to avert his attention from Joannie's skating…I’m just guessing since he’s never read WW mag before in his life.
So I made it all the way through her intro and the shots of her father in the stands and all the way through every stuck landing and I was still taking deep breaths because I knew that I was going to cry if she fell or if she didn’t fall: either way I was a timebomb.
And then I start noticing the crowd…I knew there was not a dry eye in that whole place and I could just imagine being there watching her and how I’d be out of control. More deep breaths...
So then she takes her final bow and I’m like screw it and I bawled nearly to the point of the ugly cry and by the way Dwayne’s asking me FROM BEHIND THE PAGES OF WW MAG “how’s she doing?” because I know him and if he takes one look at her he is toast. And I’m like “she’s…doing…fine…” and I'm still trying not to ugly cry. So then I think I’m okay and she’s leaving the ice and I think I'm ugly-crying-home-free, and then...then I hear Scotty Hamilton’s voice crack. And I just give up and let the ugly cry take over our living room. Then she got her wonderful score and I finished up the cry and got it together.
And then Dwayne still holding WW magazine: "How exactly do you say chamomile?"
It was a touching moment...