The Beauty Of Wings

“You have the freedom to be yourself, your true self, here and now- and nothing can stand in your way!” -Jonathan Livingston Seagull, 1973.

This morning dawned glorious Vermont bluebird skies.  It was perfect, save the wind chill that made the air temperature close to zero at the summit of Bromley.  I’m alone in Vermont for a few days while Gordie is traveling for work, so we skied without him today.   I skied my hardest and my fastest, and it was barely enough to keep up with my kids.  Despite the frigid feel to the air, the kids were amazing.  I dropped them at the curb with their backpacks and their skis, and they nimbly climbed several sets of stairs to find a table in the lodge while I parked.  They suited themselves up, even my youngest, who squeezed herself into her stiff Lange boots with the help of the travel-sized baby powder she keeps in her bag.  The whining and drippy-nosed complainers of 2,4, and 6 have turned into the sturdy, can-do troopers of 6, 8, and 10.  We had a great day.  A rain storm in the valley two nights ago dumped 6 inches of fresh snow on Bromley, so we were lucky to ski some amazing runs together.

The highlight of my day came this afternoon, as the light began to slowly change around 1:00, as it typically does at this time of year.  We were tearing down Twister, which is under the lift, and is probably our favorite family trail.  At the bottom, the slope dips and you can’t see those skiing 100 yards in front of you for about ten seconds.  I watched them in their birth order  (which is also their skiing order, at least for now!) as they disappeared out of sight: one, two, three.  My heart skipped a beat and I reminded myself of how totally capable they are on skis now.  Before I knew it, they were back in sight again: one, two, then three.  They shot up over the next ridge quickly, and then they were gone, off my radar, on their way to the bottom.  As they mounted that last ridge, Hadley was third, and she still sometimes skis without her poles.  As she came up and over the crest, her little arms reached up to the sky at 45-degree angles, forming a letter Y with her body.  Simultaneously, she tilted her head back and looked to the sky.  Hadley has a way of getting easily distracted, so my first inclination (because I never worry…)was that she was going to barrel into the next chair lift tower in her path and I’d be spending my afternoon at the local ER treating a concussion.  Truthfully though,  she looked like a little bird about to fly up into the air.  It was if her arms were solid little wings ready to take her wherever she wanted to go, and for about five seconds I felt incredibly peaceful and content watching her take in the sky and the rush of the speed she had created.  When I got to the bottom, they were all smiling, comparing notes about the fresh snow on one side of the trail.  “You ripped, guys!  I can’t believe how fast you all are!”  I said, fully aware that I was slightly winded.  Watching them all barreling down the hill, way ahead of me,  was an incredible visual of motherhood and what I’ve worked towards for ten years.    I live for moments like today when I realize how much they can do for themselves and how much they are capable of.   This is what it’s all about:  you can hover and shelter and block the exits to the nest or you can step aside, let them use their wings, and watch with pride as you see how far they will go on their own.