After days of beautiful sub freezing weather, the tree's began swaying to the arrival of the wind. During the night of wind that brought the clouds, it began to snow. It always seems to amaze me how peaceful it becomes when the flakes begin to fall.
Winter has meant so many different things, at so many different times in my life. Often I think that a piece of each meaning resides deep inside my conscience, leaving behind a nostalgia for winters ago. Because this winter is so dramatically different than any before, many of those past meanings have been surfacing. In the car on the drive to Girdwood, I peer out the window as if looking in on my past as a stranger. I see myself the snowboarder- preparing, training, the intensity, the love of giving everything I had to be the best. As my thoughts make their way back to the car, I turn around and see my son sleeping soundly in the back seat. I gaze at my reflection in the rear view mirror, hoping to get one last taste of the memory. Instead, I see a mom. My eyes possess a soft love now, not a desperate obsessive love that was indicative of my relationship with sport.
Someday I hope the two loves will meet and I can share the old love with the new. Sharing with Oskar what winter used to mean to his mom.
"Nothing that is worth doing can be achieved in our lifetime; therefore we must be saved by hope. Nothing which is true or beautiful or good makes complete sense in any immediate context of history; therefore we must be saved by faith; Nothing we do, however virtuous, can be accomplished alone; therefore we must be saved by love."
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