And feed them on your dreams, the one they pick, the one you’ll know by.
And don’t you ever ask them why, if they told you, you would cry,
Just look at them and sigh, and know they love you.”
"Teach Your Children Well" - Graham Nash; Crosby, Stills, Nash and Young
I took the kids skiing Sunday pm. We bundled up in jackets, mittens, neck warmers, ski pants, and warm socks and headed out at 4:00pm. The sun was shining and the slopes where ours for the taking. We got taken by the first couple runs but soon found our ski legs (?) and owned the slopes. Mostly because there weren’t too many people skiing but we’re getting better and better each time we go.
I learned to ski at my son’s age so teaching him takes me all the way back to my childhood. Much of the skiing’s mysticism for me comes from that time. My Dad would take us three kids and pile us into the station wagon and head out for Tyrol Basin, a small ski hill in the outback of Wisconsin somewhere. I am grateful to my father that he bravely took up skiing in the middle of his adult life and that he allowed someone else to participate in such a formative experience for me. He could just as easily guarded this father-son time for himself. You see, my father lead the college group of our church back then and one of the students was on the ski patrol. He took me, my brother and sister under his wing and taught us to ski. We went at night mostly, I think that was when Neal was on duty so we could get in free but to a child it made it seem all the more magical. We would say good bye to Mom and drive off into the blackest nights of the Wisconsin winter countryside. Neal showed me how to turn and stop, ride the lifts and the tow rope, always acting so thrilled when I mastered some new skill.
And don’t you ever ask them why, if they told you, you would cry,
Just look at them and sigh, and know they love you.”
"Teach Your Children Well" - Graham Nash; Crosby, Stills, Nash and Young
I took the kids skiing Sunday pm. We bundled up in jackets, mittens, neck warmers, ski pants, and warm socks and headed out at 4:00pm. The sun was shining and the slopes where ours for the taking. We got taken by the first couple runs but soon found our ski legs (?) and owned the slopes. Mostly because there weren’t too many people skiing but we’re getting better and better each time we go.
I learned to ski at my son’s age so teaching him takes me all the way back to my childhood. Much of the skiing’s mysticism for me comes from that time. My Dad would take us three kids and pile us into the station wagon and head out for Tyrol Basin, a small ski hill in the outback of Wisconsin somewhere. I am grateful to my father that he bravely took up skiing in the middle of his adult life and that he allowed someone else to participate in such a formative experience for me. He could just as easily guarded this father-son time for himself. You see, my father lead the college group of our church back then and one of the students was on the ski patrol. He took me, my brother and sister under his wing and taught us to ski. We went at night mostly, I think that was when Neal was on duty so we could get in free but to a child it made it seem all the more magical. We would say good bye to Mom and drive off into the blackest nights of the Wisconsin winter countryside. Neal showed me how to turn and stop, ride the lifts and the tow rope, always acting so thrilled when I mastered some new skill.
I am thrilled to watch my son conduct his careful turns as he slowly…. very slowly…. no, I mean so slowly he stops half way through… makes his way down the slope traversing the run in the classic learner’s side to side style. Then, when he judges he has reached the remaining third of the hill he’s off like a rocket and I have to crouch down to minimize my wind resistance to catch him. His younger sister likes to stay on the runs with which she is comfortable. None of this slowly side to side stuff for her – she hops of the lift, points her tips downhill and off she goes, screaming her delight to the wind whipping past her. When we get cold and can’t feel our fingers or toes any more it’s time to hit the lodge where Mommy is waiting. Hot chocolates all round and then the boy and I head back out for a few more runs under the lights while the girls stay warm in the lodge.
1 comment:
There's a line in that song where is says to "teach your parents well". I find this more and more relevant as I and my children grow older. The daily grind is hard sometimes with young adults and the greater needs they seem to have but with it comes the delights of seeing the things you taught them show up in their lives and in knowing they have found value in your teachings.....
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