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.