Off Balance: A Memoir (32 page)

The fire destroyed the entire second story of their house and a large part of the first floor. Mama’s prayer room and Christina’s bedroom were reduced to a pile of ashes. It was heartbreaking to see them lose so many of their treasured possessions. I certainly wasn’t about to cry that my wedding dress went up in flames when my poor sister lost her entire bedroom and nearly all her belongings inside.

Tata, Mama, and Christina spent the following day inspecting the damage and rummaging through ashes, trying to find any valuables spared in the fire. By the time they packed the car with the recovered items and drove to a local hotel for the night, they were so exhausted, physically and emotionally, they didn’t have much energy left to unload the items from the car. They carried what they could as they staggered into the hotel and never made it back out for a second load. Tata was usually the one to put some extra
muscle into such tasks, but his cancer was beginning to spread and he didn’t have the strength or stamina that he used to.

In some cruel twist of fate, a thief broke into their car during the night and stole every last item they’d salvaged from the house that day. Among the stolen items was Mama’s jewelry, including her Rolex watch, which was a special anniversary gift from Tata. He had saved for many years to buy her this watch to celebrate the twenty-seven years they’d been together. Christina’s laptop, one of her few items not burned in the fire, was also taken. Tata did his best to stay strong and worked with Mama to repair the fire damage to the house, so they could sell it and move to a new home. It took a lot out of them when they were already beleaguered to start with.

Tata continued to get weaker, and he was now operating with only one eye, having lost the other entirely to the cancer. I’m grateful that Tata was able to walk me down the aisle at my wedding. After all we’d been through, to have him escort me as I moved to the next stage of my life made that day complete. The fact that he was also able to later meet and hold his first grandchild, Carmen, was a blessing as well.

In fall 2008, during the second trimester of my pregnancy with our son, Vincent, I packed my bags and went to Houston to support Tata, Mama, and Christina as the cancer was now rampant and it was clear Tata was losing the battle. He was admitted to the hospital, and we were told that he was nearing the end of his life. His impending passing was beginning to sink in for all of us, especially Mama. Tata was all she’d ever known; she’d never been on her own, having gone straight from her parents’ home in Romania to marrying Tata and starting a new life in America. I never doubted Mama’s strength; she was a survivor. But I could feel her pain. Tata had put her through hell a million times over, but she still loved him and she knew in her heart that he loved her with everything he had. In those final years, he had come to terms with his own mistakes and asked for forgiveness.

“Will you ever forgive me for all that I have done?” he asked Mama.

“Yes, of course I will,” Mama said, not thinking twice.

I tried to stay strong to comfort Mama and Christina. As I was a relatively emotional person to begin with, being pregnant made it even more difficult to keep it together. I’d find myself crying more times than not. It was heartbreaking to see Tata’s withered body once we moved him to hospice just waiting for the end. He was so frail; he’d lost so much weight, I didn’t recognize his body at all. His mouth was dry and I could sense no life coming from him. He was barely hanging on.

Our last coherent conversation was at the hospital the week before he moved into hospice care. Dementia was setting in, so I’d have to repeat things, which I didn’t mind. It was the least I could do for Tata. He kept asking me what “hospice” was, and, sadly, I’d explain again and again. It was very difficult to move him to hospice, since it was basically an admission on all our parts that the end was near, but at this point he required care around the clock. I remember we took a family photo in the hospital: Tata, Mama, Christina, and me, the three of us huddled around Tata in his bed. It would be our last.

Mama was making herself sick staying by his side all day long those final weeks. She wanted to be by Tata’s side when he took his final breath. I literally had to pry her from his bedside just so she could eat and get a breath of fresh air. Christina and I were with Tata every day those last few weeks in hospice. It was excruciating watching him fade before our eyes. I’d talk to him as much as I could, standing at his bedside, holding his hand and sharing memories. I prayed he knew we were there.

When the telephone rang in the middle of the night on October 12, 2008, we all knew what it meant. Just days after his fifty-fourth birthday, Tata passed away.

I know he loved us and did the best he could to be a good father
and husband. Now, as a parent myself, I understand that more than ever. Forgiveness is purifying for the soul, and I’m so thankful that the four of us were able to forgive one another before Tata left this earth.

With every ending comes a new beginning and, for me, I was lucky enough to have two beginnings after Tata’s passing: Vincent and Jen. Tata never met either of these “new beginnings” as Vincent was born just months after his passing, and Tata was too ill by the end to meet Jen. Christina, Jen, and I had continued to build our relationship and get closer over the next year. By winter 2009, all three sisters knew it was time for Jen to meet Mama.

Mike and I decided to host Christmas at our home in Cleveland that year. We figured it would be the perfect time and setting for us all to come together. Mama, understandably, was nervous and anxious to meet Jen. She’d already heard so much about her from Christina and me and knew she’d had an amazing family and upbringing, but Mama still carried remorse and guilt about putting Jen up for adoption. Even though Mama was scared and worried that Jen might be resentful and angry, she knew she owed it to Jen to at least meet her.

Within minutes of Mama arriving at my house, she was hugging Jen, long and tight. I had a lump in my throat the size of an apple. I immediately welled up as I watched Mama squeeze the daughter she never was given a chance to hold at birth. I caught Mama staring at Jen, just like I’d stared at Jen when I first met her. I’m sure Mama was taken aback at the similarities between all of us, and I remember Mama nodding her head when I mentioned it. I couldn’t imagine what it must have been like for Mama to have given up a baby at birth, and now have all three of her daughters in the same room having an early Christmas dinner. I wondered if Mama noticed Jen’s resemblance to Tata, in particular. The shape of her face, her nose, the color of her skin—it was all Tata.

“Did you wonder what ever happened to me? Did you ever think about me?” Jen asked Mama.

My heart pounded and I could feel the tears building up. I was so proud that Jen asked Mama these questions right away. Mama told her that she’d thought about her often. I could see that Mama was emotional and on the verge of tears, but she did her best to be honest and give Jen the answers she deserved. I remember Jen also asked if Mama had any photos of herself when she was pregnant with Jen. I was surprised when Mama said yes, that she had found one when she was looking through old photos to share with Jen. She said she’d give it to her.
Man
, I thought,
I want to see that one, too
.

Mama went on to ask Jen about her childhood, her parents, her siblings. Jen was very generous to Mama, reassuring her that she had a wonderful childhood and that Mama shouldn’t feel badly for what had happened. She told Mama that her parents taught her to never judge her biological family, because there was a reason that things happened the way they did and, in the end, their family was blessed with her.

We sat together until one in the morning, talking and sharing stories. We also brought out the camera and snapped a few shots to mark the beginning of our new chapter together. I remember Mama brought a Christmas gift for Jen—a white zip-up Guess jacket and a matching white wallet, which Jen tried on and was wearing in the photos. It made me think back to the rose I’d given Jen at the airport the day I first met her and how all of our lives had changed so much since then.

As for gymnastics, people ask me all the time,
Will you let your kids be gymnasts?
Of course I will! Heck, they already are! I love my
sport with all my heart. It was never the
sport
that harmed me, it was the self-serving adults surrounding the sport at the Elite level who harmed me. I’m excited for my children to experiment with gymnastics, and I won’t lie: I’ll be thrilled if they share my love for it, but, more important, I want them to be exposed to many different sports and activities so they’re able to identify their own passion in life. Whether it’s gymnastics, another sport, music, art, or something entirely different, Mike and I will support and encourage them to fulfill their own passions.

Gymnastics will always be a part of my life (past, present, and future), and I am grateful for the life lessons and confidence it has given me. Whether joined by thousands or standing alone, I will continue to be an advocate for my sport and push for fairness in women’s gymnastics across the board. I am eternally grateful and proud to have found my passion in what I believe is the greatest sport in the world. As the next generation of young gymnasts reach new heights and stick their landings, I’ll be supporting them and promoting our sport … every step of the way.

Acknowledgments

There are many individuals who made this book possible. First, I’d like to express my deepest gratitude to my husband, Michael, who has always been a pillar of strength. You truly are my knight in shining armor. Your support and understanding empowered me to take this leap of faith and write my story. I couldn’t ask for a better partner. You’re my best friend. I love you.

To my co-authors, Paul and Teri Williams, the dynamic duo! Not only are you my A-Team, you are dear friends I adore and greatly respect. My sincerest thanks for all of your dedication and guidance over the years—and especially with this project. It was long and tedious at times, but your patience and efforts are truly appreciated. Thank you for believing in me.

To Michelle Howry, and the entire Simon & Schuster team—thank you for your enthusiasm and encouragement from day one. Your expertise, support, and care throughout this process have been invaluable.

To my agent, Stephanie Abou—thank you for helping me connect the dots to make my story a reality.

To Aunt Janice, my sounding board—I thank you for being such a loyal and loving friend to me and my family over the last twenty-one years. I look forward to fifty more!

To my sisters, Christina and Jennifer—with the release of this book comes a new chapter in our lives. My life is better for having
the two of you in it. Now I have not one but two sisters to love, protect, and share my life with. I love you both and look forward to our future and the new memories we will make together.

To Mama, I want to express my love and appreciation for your unwavering support. You have loved me unconditionally, taught me right from wrong, and done everything in your power to provide me with the best. I am forever grateful for the sacrifices you made for me. I love you today, tomorrow, and always.

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Largely considered one of the greatest and most accomplished gymnasts of the modern era, Dominique Moceanu, born in 1981, is the youngest American gymnast, male or female, to win an Olympic gold medal (at age fourteen), and the youngest to win a Senior National All-Around title (at age thirteen!). She was also the youngest gymnast to compete at the World Championships, to earn a spot on the US National Team, and the youngest athlete ever featured on a Wheaties box!

Born to immigrant Romanian parents, she started her gymnastics career at the ripe old age of three.

Today Dominique is happily married to Dr. Michael Canales, a gymnast turned foot and ankle surgeon. The couple lives in Cleveland with their two children, Carmen and Vincent.

Me at six months old on a clothesline.
(Courtesy of the author)