One more year...

 

So I’m skiing with Friar’s Mom out West again,  and that’s something special. 

Because it’s not every year I get to do this. 

In order for this to happen, I need at least three things:   the time,  the money, and the health.   And that’s not always guaranteed.

Because some years, I didn’t have the health.   

Like nine years ago, where I tore  my knee ligament on the first day.   Not only was my ski vacation finished, but so was my whole ski season.    And the next season  after that.

And there was another year where my knees were fine, but I was laid off.   I didn’t have the money, and I couldn’t afford to come here.

And for the years both me and my and my knees were working,  I needed to be lucky enough that there wasn’t some stupid job deadline preventing me from taking the time off.

And that just applies for me. 

 The time/money/health thing also applies to Friar’s Mom.   

And we’ve had a few close calls.

Like the year she had cancer and we didn’t know if  she’d be around for much longer. 

That battle was won, though, and she and my Dad came out here the following year.  And I got to ski with them. 

A few years later,  my Dad died suddenly.  And we werent’ sure if Mom would still want to come out here alone.

But she did.   Packing the van, and driving across the country herself.   For yet one more ski season doing what she loved.  

And though Dad was gone,  at least I still got to ski with Mom.

Then there was that time  we almost lost her in a car accident while she was driving here.     

The van was totalled.   But that  wouldn’t stop her:  within 10 days, Friar’s Mom had bought another car, repacked it, and was on the road again. 

And I got in one more  visit. 

The latest close call was this summer:  a horrible bicycle accident.   

Mom went over the handle bars, and got Medi-Vacced to the Trauma Ward by chopper. 

 Last June, she was lying in a bed with a fractured pelvis, and bleeding into her brain.

At the time,we didnt’ know if she’d even be  able  to  live alone, or drive her car.      

But one of the first things she asked when she woke up , was would she be able to ski this winter?

Because come Hell and High Water, she was gonna.

She spent the summer in a wheel chair, undergoing months of rehab.   Which she did, with a vengeance.  

And now, less than 8 months later, she’s back to cutting tracks in the fresh power.  

So the stars have aligned once again.    

Both me and my Mom have the time, the money, and most importantly:  our health.

And I’m skiing with her.

For at least one more year.

And for that, I’m grateful.

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