A Great Time

We were spring skiing in Vermont this last week and had an absolute blast together.  There wer the usual hiccups that a family has on any long car ride but all in all we couldn’t have asked for a better holiday.  The weather was decent, with one solid day of rain, but 3 solid days of sun so all in all I can’t complain. 

What struck me though was the number of families skiing together…or should I say NOT skiing together.  There seemed to be so many parents dropping their kids off to ‘lessons’ for the whole day while they skiied.  I wonder if that’s lessons or daycare.  We always insist the kids have at least 2 half day lesson sessions when we go for a five day trip.  It’s to continue to improve technique, and frankly to get them to the parts of the mountain that my knees no longer can handle.  My husband took the sport up as an adult, so the kids passed his abilities a few years back – I am holding on to the edge of superiority BARELY. 

So back to my story, skiing for us is the ultimate family time.  No distractions from being together, except lunch!  No tv, blackberry, phones or friends.  Just us.  The kids have come to cherish our together time as much as my husband and I have.  I wonder why other families don’t see the joy in skiing together.  Oh well, each to their own.

By the way, I met a couple on the mountain making their way down gently who were both in their 70’s.  I had to take up conversation with them.  They had skiied out west earlier this year but wanted to get a few more days under their belt for this year.  Wow, I hope I am still on my skiis when I’m 70.

 

 

Holy Smokes

The snow started early here this year. We got the first on November 18th and it’s still going. We got upwards of 20 cm last night, and now we are waiting for the freezing rain/sleet. It should be a ball.

We are house bound. The kids and H went to church on the unplowed roads, fortunately it’s less than a kilometre down the road. We’ve decided not to drive into the city to go to a long planned Christmas party. It’s just not safe. Instead we will do some more baking and finish decorating our tree.  Here is a picture of our budgie on it.

We got our Christmas tree. Friends have a tree plantation on their farm, so we took advantage of yesterday morning’s nice weather and went out to cut one. It’s a lovely little (2.5 metre) spruce, and once again we made new family memories…not the least of which was H cursing as he tried to trim it to size.

I hope that you all have a chance to take stock of what you have in your lives, and to take time to show thanks by giving back to others. I loved what I read on Bill’s site today, I hope that it touches you as it did me. Thanks to Bill for bringing this to my attention.

So live your life that the fear of death can never enter your heart.
Trouble no one about their religion;
respect others in their view, and demand that they respect yours.
Love your life, perfect your life, beautify all things in your life.

Seek to make your life long and its purpose in the service of your people.
Prepare a noble death song for the day when you go over the great divide.
Always give a word or a sign of salute when meeting or passing a friend,
even a stranger, when in a lonely place.
Show respect to all people and grovel to none.

When you arise in the morning give thanks for the food and for the joy of living.
If you see no reason for giving thanks, the fault lies only in yourself.

Abuse no one and no thing, for abuse turns the wise ones to fools
and robs the spirit of its vision.

When it comes your time to die, be not like those whose hearts are filled
with the fear of death, so that when their time comes they weep
and pray for a little more time to live their lives over again in a different way.
Sing your death song and die like a hero going home.

Chief Tecumseh

 

My Dad

I wrote this a while back, almost 10 months ago.  I think it shares some of what I am about…

I think whether we like to admit it or not, we tend to get wrapped up in our own lives and to neglect people around us. This was hit home for me last month. I phoned my mom for the ‘obligatory’ call home. You know the one. She was hysterical as she answered the phone. The ambulance was there. Dad wasn’t responsive, he had no pulse. I did what I had to do, packed the kids, pjs and toothbrushes, dropped them at a neighbors and let my husband drive me the hour to the hospital. It was dark and snowy (of course), and slippery (or course), and the drive lasted an eternity. My heart sank when I finally got to the ER and it was a social worker who greeted me. I’d heard stories of these people, the harbingers of death and terrible news.The night was a scene out of a bad hospital movie. I didn’t know so many horrible things could be done to someone. My dad. The respirator, the scissors, the CT scans the tubes and monitors. My dad. I should call the rest of my family the social worker said. My dad was gravely ill. I told her we were all there. All three of us. I’m not ready to tell you about everything that happened. I can tell you that a month later he’s okay. I can also tell you that everything has changed. I have time to call. I make time in my day every day to speak with him and mom. I make time to listen to what they want to say, to what they need to tell me. I’m lucky. I guess it’s true, you don’t appreciate what you have until it’s (almost) gone. Was it luck or fate that I called when I did? That’s something else to think about.