WORKING WITH SERIOUS LIMITS ON MY NEW YEAR RESOLUTIONS
Following my New Year’s resolution to be available, I filled in for my grandsons’ father who was not available, and won’t be as often as he has been. It’s an evolving role for my limited abilities, but my grandsons appreciate my availability, or the stories they can tell.
The weekend started badly after I promised we could watch the video replay of Florida beating Oklahoma in the NCAA football championship. All week the two 11-year-olds had bragging rights because they were going to see the whole game on replay. They told me about the big plays friends told them to watch for.
We watched the first nine minutes when teammates pounded each other’s shoulder pads. Just before kickoff the recorder halted to ask if I wanted to delete this recording or save it. I had recorded the last nine minutes of the pre-game show. Nothing more. My grandsons’ faces slid from excited smiles to blank stares.
Guarding them the next day at Mission Ridge gave me a chance to redeem myself.
My grandkids quickly called out for Tyee, a most difficult Black Diamond slope with monstrous moguls their father often leads them down. This year and most of last, I cruised another route and met them at the bottom. Cruising feels better at my age.
My wife advised me I had the authority to tell them we can’t do certain runs, but I needed redemption. Since my six-year-old trusts his older brothers to tell him if he could ski a slope, I asked them if I could ski Tyee. One said, “Oh yeah. You could do it easily.”
“OK,” I said, “but first we need a practice run on a smaller Black Diamond.”
The practice slope had a thin cover of powder over ice. They traversed across the top of the slope to a safer run by using a path two skis wide, for them an avenue. Following them so I could swoop in to help when needed, my front tip stuck in the upper bank and I tumbled backwards downhill. I slid with my skis and poles in the air until coming to rest against a small pine tree. At that instant my cell phone rang. Since I was resting, I answered it.
My daughter wanted to know how we were doing and what our plans were for lunch. I told her they were in my sight, we would ski Tyee and meet her for lunch.
Tyee’s moguls were worn down and soft. My trip down was smooth, almost a cruise. The 11-year-old who said I could do it easily seemed surprised. “Grampa you made it down without falling once.”
I was available because their father wasn’t. They appreciated it, for the stories to tell their classmates if nothing else. Availability is what I can offer. What I really want to do is cruise, but sometimes life is bumpier than that.
The weekend started badly after I promised we could watch the video replay of Florida beating Oklahoma in the NCAA football championship. All week the two 11-year-olds had bragging rights because they were going to see the whole game on replay. They told me about the big plays friends told them to watch for.
We watched the first nine minutes when teammates pounded each other’s shoulder pads. Just before kickoff the recorder halted to ask if I wanted to delete this recording or save it. I had recorded the last nine minutes of the pre-game show. Nothing more. My grandsons’ faces slid from excited smiles to blank stares.
Guarding them the next day at Mission Ridge gave me a chance to redeem myself.
My grandkids quickly called out for Tyee, a most difficult Black Diamond slope with monstrous moguls their father often leads them down. This year and most of last, I cruised another route and met them at the bottom. Cruising feels better at my age.
My wife advised me I had the authority to tell them we can’t do certain runs, but I needed redemption. Since my six-year-old trusts his older brothers to tell him if he could ski a slope, I asked them if I could ski Tyee. One said, “Oh yeah. You could do it easily.”
“OK,” I said, “but first we need a practice run on a smaller Black Diamond.”
The practice slope had a thin cover of powder over ice. They traversed across the top of the slope to a safer run by using a path two skis wide, for them an avenue. Following them so I could swoop in to help when needed, my front tip stuck in the upper bank and I tumbled backwards downhill. I slid with my skis and poles in the air until coming to rest against a small pine tree. At that instant my cell phone rang. Since I was resting, I answered it.
My daughter wanted to know how we were doing and what our plans were for lunch. I told her they were in my sight, we would ski Tyee and meet her for lunch.
Tyee’s moguls were worn down and soft. My trip down was smooth, almost a cruise. The 11-year-old who said I could do it easily seemed surprised. “Grampa you made it down without falling once.”
I was available because their father wasn’t. They appreciated it, for the stories to tell their classmates if nothing else. Availability is what I can offer. What I really want to do is cruise, but sometimes life is bumpier than that.
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