Yesterday, I skied for the first time in almost thirty years. I took a lesson with my two youngest children and spent the day on the bunny hill while my husband and older ones soared down the side of the mountain. The two little kids took to their skis immediately, and, to be honest, I wasn't half bad really. The other day, I wrote about the "young voice" of my Aunt Mary. I am not sure I really expressed what is so inspiring about her voice. She never stopped caring about small things and wondering over things and beginning again--she speaks like a person who is ready to try something. Maybe skiing for the day instead of sitting in the lodge is a bit like that.
I told the children that this marks the beginning of a new era for us--the era of them having a Mom who occasionally wakes them all up at 5 am and says, "Let's go skiing." My older ones had me in my youth when I was full of ideas and energy and smiles, but my younger ones have me at an age when I realize that every day is counted, and, even more significantly, I no longer have a nursing baby and darting toddler to make me think twice before going on an adventure.
And I still have many, many smiles.