if I could move mountains…

Sometimes people surprise you.

Sometimes that surprise is so grand, so wonderful, so touching, that it brings on an overwhelming rush of emotions.

This weekend I was surprised by my own daughter.

It was everything grand, and wonderful, and it made me so happy, but left me with a feeling of melancholy.

Just this year we have, as a family, started skiing. Even myself after 20 years of not being on skis, has now left the serenity of the woods for the swish of the mountains. On Mondays I find myself sore with an extra bruise or two, but I can’t wait for next weekend. I enjoy the skiing, but I enjoy the treasured family time we are gaining more.

My middle daughter was the late bloomer, the last one to fall into the enjoyment of skiing. Well, she liked skiing, just feared the ski lift, actually getting off the ski lift. We coaxed her in every which way possible, even bribing her with a guinea pig.

Photo (16)

I do not advocate bribing a child, but if it works, than I am okay with the idea.

As you know from prior blogs, George P. Hopper, the guinea pig now resides with us. So, bribery might have helped to get over her fear of the chair lift, but I really think she got over her fear in her own way, at her own pace.

However, that was two weekends ago when we went skiing that she was bribed with the pig.

This weekend she stepped out of her comfort zone and challenged herself by entering a ski race. You don’t know my daughter, but she does not deal well with change, with competition, or with fear. Most people don’t, but overcoming issues needs to be done on a person’s own terms. It is part of growing up.

The first run, she fell right at the start, but got herself up right away, and continued. The second run she did a fantastic job! Mind you, this was numerous rides in a chair lift with no complaints, down a hill that she had never skied before, and a race challenge! That’s pretty impressive!

My happiness stems from her success, watching her face light up, and actually seeing her confidence grow. As a parent, I could not be prouder of all three of my children whenever I witness this growth in them.

But, as a parent the melancholy resides with the reality of how fast and how far they are growing. It’s like I am skiing down the mountain trying to catch up, but they keep flying by me, going faster and faster.

I need the highest mountain, so I can keep watching them fly by me. I am not ready to get to the bottom.

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