This past weekend, for the first-time ever, I strapped on a pair of skis and went down a snow-covered mountain. I was not allowed to do this when I was younger, because no one wanted me to risk an injury while competing nationally as a gymnast. Years later, I decided I was not much of a cold weather person, and as the years past it just never really occurred to me do try skiing-- until now. Turns out my son loves the snow, loves the cold, and seems to have no fear. I also have a couple of great friends that enjoy the sport, and they all somehow convinced me to try skiing at 39. It wound up being one of our best trips ever!
As a parent, I had prepared myself for the sleepless nights, stinky diapers, sick days, child care issues and educational expenses. What I had not prepared myself for was having to deal with much of this by myself-- I had never contemplated taking my son to Disney or Bethany by myself. Never thought I'd be hooking a worm for him while taking him fishing, climbing a tree to retrieve one of his toys, or wiping out while hurling myself down a mountain, and yet all this and more has become my reality over the last several years. None of this was planned, but maybe it had to happen this way so I could learn that true love may indeed have no limits.
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