The Devil Hill....A Lesson in Falling

A day or so ago, I found out that my application to the only medical college I applied to was denied. The denial process is quite cold and impersonal. My name on a web page with a hyphen followed by a single word - denied- is how a crushing blow was delivered. It was 1:37 am when I checked the website to find out if I was offered an interview. Stunned, tears of exhaustion and defeat streamed down my checks. In my stunned state, I emailed my mother. She deserved to know as soon as I knew. This is as much her dream for me as it is my dream for myself.

It has been a long 5 months in my life, and yet again, another dream was crushed. Needless to say I spent the rest of the night somewhere between crying silently and bawling my eyes out. Finally exhausted I fell asleep, only to wake a few hours later and get the breakfast for the kids.

Later that morning, I told Emma, my youngest, first. With big tears filling beautiful blue eyes, she hugged me tightly for as long as she could. Letting go, she brazenly said to me, "Well, you are just going to have to get back up and try again. Just like me and my bike." As she finished her matter of fact statement, an enormously innocent grin came across her face, and my heart, which had felt nothing but sadness, brightened. The honest innocence of an eight year old can bring you back to reality faster than anything. She is something else.

In the afternoon, when Nolan and I were alone, I told him the news. His face held many complex emotions - frustration, sadness, and secretly happy. He gave me a hug and then pulled away to bury his face in his pillow, trying to hide the tears trickling down his cheek. I tried as best as I could to comfort him. Later, while in the kitchen, he found me. Pulling me into a hug, he said to me, "At least you'll get to spend more time with us. You can always try again."

A text message to Savannah to break the news was followed by an immediate phone call. For a sixteen year old, that is a pretty severe response. She was confused and a bit stunned, then sadness followed in her voice. I just did not have anything else to give to her at that point.

A message to my husband to give him the news. "Why?" What could I tell him. It's a roll of the dice. It was a rough day, but all day long, even in my emotionally exhausted state, my thoughts continued to return to what Emma had so innocently stated about her bike. You see, Emma had to conquer what we have come to loving know as the "Devil Hill". It is part of an asphalt track at her elementary school where she would sometimes ride her bike. The hill is steep and the site of a very bad bike accident that has left her a scar on her forehead. My husband and I encouraged her to go back to that hill and conquer it, rather than letting it beat her. It took some time, but she did just that. She got back up, got back on her bike, and conquered the "Devil Hill." What kind of role model would I be, if I gave up?

So like my courageous daughter, I am going to get back up and try again. I know this is meant to be.