Derek and his wife knew there would be challenges in transit with their children, all three under nine years old, but they didn’t know it would be this bad this early, which is to say their problems started almost immediately.
First, there was extremely heavy traffic on the way to the airport. Though not unpredicted, it just never really let up the whole way there. Fortunately, they had left home with enough time to spare, but they arrived much later than anticipated.
The airport was incredibly busy. Again, predictable around the holidays, but the security was bottlenecked like they’d never seen before. They had to hustle to the gate to board, but then having barely made it into their seats on the plane, an announcement was made that their flight would be delayed. Their five-year-old then immediately got sick, which was an ordeal in and of itself. Another full hour and a half passed before their aircraft got the go-ahead to roll out onto the runway to take off.
There was some pretty wicked turbulence on the flight and some real suspense about whether the five-year-old might get sick again, but she didn’t, though she said her ears hurt the whole way. Meanwhile, the couple’s eight-year-old twins fought over the armrest most of the flight.
Next, upon disembarking and making it through the terminal to baggage claim and then to the rental car place, Derek and his wife learned from the surly agent manning the counter that their reservations had been lost. It took an hour to sort this out. There was heavy construction on the road to the hotel, such that when they finally arrived, checked in, and went downstairs to rent their ski equipment, it was already pretty late in the day. There were lots of waivers to fill out and boots that were either too tight or too loose. The twins were embroiled in an argument about whether they needed ski poles, and sadly, they never made it out onto the slopes the first day. In fact, they were all so exhausted from traveling that they barely made it through dinner before falling asleep.
The next morning, getting the kids dressed was another trial, one finally accomplished with Derek focused on the youngest and his wife negotiating with the twins. They then ate some breakfast, secured their lift tickets, and got up the mountain to enroll the five-year-old in ski school.
It was well past 10 o’clock by the time the twins, Derek, and his wife boarded the resort’s main lift. They started out on an easy run, a green one called Porcupine that turned out somewhat harder than it looked as the twins, under their mother’s patient tutelage, slowly at first, then more adeptly began to figure out how to make it down the mountain. The twins got the hang of it quickly, though, over the next hour and after a snack and some hot chocolate, announced that they were ready to try a blue run.
Derek scanned the map and found what looked like a good one called Bliss, which though it started out a little steep with some tricky moguls along the way, about half way down, it smoothed out and opened up, pitching not too gently but comfortably downward.
Derek, perched near the top of the run, watched as his graceful wife—she had always been a good skier—slalomed back and forth, keeping an eye on the kids just ahead of her. The twins were proving to be naturals.
Taking in the magnificent cascading mountains all around and how the sun gleamed off the snow through the beautiful aspen and spruce trees along the slope, Derek then pushed forward and soon began to feel the exhilaration of his downhill momentum. With mind, body, and spirit all engaged and in balance, he felt the thrill of gathering speed and the pure athletic enjoyment he’d always associated with the sport.
As he continued to gain speed, Derek found a great line down the course and threw his hands skyward high above his head, feeling a sense of triumph over what he didn’t quite know. Life, he supposed. Flying downhill, cold air streaming in his face, the bright sun above him, the perfectly-groomed snow beneath him, Derek realized he was, in this very instant, altogether happy, singularly joyful, and completely jubilant.
And at the bottom of the mountain, as Derek skidded to a stop in front of his wife and kids, he felt something so potent in the fabric of the unfolding moment that he knew not only would he always remember it but would draw power from it for years to come.
God—May we draw lasting fortitude from our fleeting moments of true jubilation. Amen.
