Au revoir mon amour.

Goodbye Ankle

We did everything together. And I insist, there was never a dull moment. From the first time I strapped on ice skates when I was seven or the first time I nearly broke you skateboarding in an that closed grocery stores parking lot when I was fifteen — it’s been a hell of a ride. Or should I say run?

I’ll miss you. Sure, you’re still attached to me. I’m grateful for that! And eventually I’ll be able to put weight back on you, regain my strength, and learn to walk again. But it’s not the same. You were, and I mean this with all my being, my best ankle. (Sorry left ankle.)

You’re upset, I know, because I hurt you. That’s understandable. I shouldn’t have tried to ride that handrail in the sandy Venice Beach Skatepark. And by throwing myself into the dangerousness of velocity and gravity merging, I landed in a way that… well… crushed you. Leaving my leg bones, Fibula and Tibia, suddenly nearly detached from you.

You probably don’t want to talk to me. And that’s fine. I’m not writing this because I think in any way that I can get you back. In fact, the doctors have made it pretty clear with the handful of screws and big ass titanium plate, that I won’t.

You were my best ankle! My front foot, my kick foot. Do you remember flicking a kick-flip hundreds of times in the cul de sac until we could land it consistently? A few years later we could kick-flip down stairs! I couldn’t have done any of it without you. And I don’t regret a single moment we shared.

I love you. But don’t think you haven’t hurt me too. I’ll do everything to make this up to you us. And maybe one day, we’ll skate again?

In parting, here’s one of my favorite moments. This photo of us doing a tail grab over that big ass police cone in Chicago.

All my best,

~ Jennings

Skating in Chicago circa 2004