My sister moved to Denver last year so a few weeks ago Gman,
my parents, and I went to visit her. We went to see where she walks when she
talk to us on the phone, where she studies, where she rests. We went to meet
her friends and try on her lifestyle. We met up with our cousin too for a bit
of last chance skiing in Winter Park.
My experience in Denver consisted of little touristy
destinations, besides a drive by of Coors field on our way to lunch on a
rooftop bar nearby. The weather was hot, my thin turtle neck and jeans were too
much, but the sun felt good on my skin. We were closer to it there in the mile
high city. Our plan was to scout out Laura’s life, then head into the mountains
for a weekend in a ski-town for a little R&R.
I was getting nervous about the prospect of skiing. I only
went one other time in my life. I was decent then but I was worried now. They
say it’s like riding a bike and as soon as you jump off the ski lift you
remember what to do. Everyone else was a lot more experienced. I almost threw
up from nerves while we rented our skis.
The snow was almost melted. Puddles of mud remain where only
a week ago there were huge piles of snow. Bits of grass peeked out in other
places. It was hot too, only a handful of people were wearing jackets with
their ski pants (I saw a few spring breakers wearing bikinis!). I could barely take in my surroundings though because I was so
distracted with my anxiety. Would everyone hate me if I just stayed at the lodge
bar and watched the skiers? This was more in my comfort zone. But before I
could finish my beer, which my sister insisted I drink to calm my nerves, we
were on our way up the mountain. My mom and I hired an instructor to help me
feel more confident (I recommend doing this). When I jumped off the ski lift I
knew I was in trouble. My skis were heavy and cumbersome. I couldn’t remember
how to get them to stay straight. I started sweating and a wave of heat came
over me. I will never get down this mountain, I thought, and panic set in. Tiny
children zipped past me and I felt crazy for being so nervous. But there was no
muscle memory. I had no idea how to ski or how to get down this mountain. I was
on the verge of tears, mostly from embarrassment. My instructor kindly held his
poles horizontally and snow plowed backwards while I snow plowed forward
holding onto him for dear life.
I was mad at everyone for making me do this and I was
embarrassed that I couldn’t. But my instructor (his name was Bud by the way.
How perfect is that?) calmed me down and said, “Jamie, in an hour you will be
skiing down that mountain with confidence.” I didn’t believe him and just
wanted to pay him to leave me alone. But he persisted and sure enough movement
by movement I was learning and grew confident. I could feel my muscles working
and my skis started to stay straight. I could control my speed and my
direction. Heck, I could even look up without panicking that I was going
downhill. I definitely had a few more freak outs on steeper parts, but overall
I knew how to ski. I did it! I learned a new sport! I felt so proud of myself
that the fact that my body was starting to give in to fatigue went un-noticed.
Meanwhile, the rest of my family was having a lovely day on
the slopes. Or so I thought. When finally we returned to the lodge (I was about
to collapse) for food and drink I found out that my daredevil sister broke her
arm snowboarding. How terrible!
 |
| my dad and Gman pretending to be stuck in the icy lake |
We spent the rest of the weekend sitting around the table in
our rented condo eating, drinking (all local beers), and laughing so hard that
our sides hurt. After a tough year, I hadn’t laughed that hard in a long time.
It felt good to let go and relax with my family.
Sunday we decided to explore the resort area of Winter Park
where there were shops and restaurants. My sister had to go back to the doctor
for her arm. So while my dad, Gman, and I waited we popped into a few places. I’m
not usually one to buy a souvenir and I especially don’t like getting t-shirts,
key chains or that type of thing. But we looked around anyways. I saw something
that caught my eye but decided to think about it while we had some afternoon
beers at the Cheeky Monk.
We sat on the patio in the sun and again laughed until our
sides hurt, yet again. It felt so good. My mom and sister joined us and I was
completely satisfied with my life sitting there with them. I did have a nagging
impulse to buy my prize though, so I snuck over to the shop and bought one for
me and one for my sister. Everyone thought I went to the restroom and got a
huge kick out of me taking shopping breaks while drinking. (I’m not going to
tell you know what it was. I’ll be revealing it on Wednesday! I’m such a tease,
I know.)
While we sat there, it was time to remember the real reason
we all came together that weekend. We toasted to my beloved Uncle Tom who had
passed away one year ago that day. I consider him to be one of my soul mates and
it felt like a piece of me was destroyed when he passed. But I couldn’t think
of a better way to celebrate his memory than being together and laughing. He
had an infectious laugh and I could hear him laughing at my antics and fears,
but then being so proud of my accomplishments.
The challenges in our lives can seem overwhelming sometimes.
It can seem like we will never get through the day or the experience. I thought
my heart would never stop breaking and that my life would never feel normal. I thought
I would never ski down that mountain, but I did. I didn’t do it alone though, I
did it with the encouragement of my family and with the expertise of an
instructor coaching me through each step.
One of my favorite mantras that I say to myself almost daily
is, “This too shall pass.” I say it for the good times and the difficult times.
Our lives are fleeting and time ticks by without regard for our desires to
cling to the moment. So enjoy the ones you’re with and if you are in pain
remember that it doesn’t last forever and you can get through it.
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