Going Home

Spring Break 2014 is here!  The car is overflowing with duffles, dog cages and ski gear.  We're leaving the Texas forecast in the 70's and heading for temperatures ranging from the teens to the 30's.  Happy Spring, folks!  While pulling out the ski gear (unused for a couple years and mostly outgrown) and also scheduling private lessons for the girls and reserving equipment, I did a short trip down memory lane.  The Rocky Mountains, Crested Butte, ski slopes and ski gear make me think of Dad.  My brother tells a story of how I learned to ski around age 4.  He claims that Dad "spanked me down Simba"-- a ski slope in Vail, Colorado.  While this is only partially true, it does capture decades of memories from Spring Break in Colorado.  Wake up, suit up, ski hard and fast--- no need for careful turns--- just tuck and race to the bottom.   I haven't been skiing since Dad died; he was my best partner on the slopes, well, except for my brother.  In his later years, we would ski a run, stop at a warming hut for a drink, then ski another run to the next warming hut.  Due to the fast speeds previously mentioned, this worked out to be about 3 minutes on the slopes for every hour spent with hot chocolate or a warm "mixed drink"---skis off by the fire.  All these thoughts going through my mind leave me with a feeling that we're going home to Colorado, as it is so connected with Dad.  I have no idea if I will even ski this year, but I'm certain that Dad's memory will be powerfully felt.  I'm thankful to have a lifetime of memories with him in the Rocky Mountains where his passionate and adventurous ways were on full display.