*****
Years later
The medal hangs in the middle of the shelf, right above the TV. It gleams with that polished bronze hue that still thrills me every time I see it, even though it's been almost fifteen years since that podium at the Olympic Games.
"And which one is this, mom?" asks Susy, with wide eyes and a smile so much like her father's.
"Mom's Olympic one," Candace replies, so much like me, with a know-it-all tone, as if she hasn't said it a dozen times already.
I watch them from the doorway, still in my apron, and can't help but smile. My little twins, my stars.
They take turns carefully lifting the medal, as if it's a sacred jewel. And to me, it is. Not for metal, but for what it represents: the end of an era and the beginning of another even more beautiful one.
"I won that me
