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Remember When?

By Jan Nesset

I topped off winter by skiing with my daughter at our local resort. She can ski blue runs on the "back side," the resort's hinterlands, bravely, with growing ease and, increasingly to her chagrin, without poles.

On this fine day, we're having so much fun my 5-year-old says she's willing to swap her "What do you want to be when you grow up?" answer from artist to skier. It is one of those unforgettable days. She is such a strong skier that I wonder how many more years it'll be before I struggle to keep up with her. I ask myself half seriously, two more?

Even today I am yelling after her, commanding her to slow down. But what am I thinking! I can still remember when speed skiing was like distilled joi de vivre to me, worthy of risking a ripped lift ticket.

I can remember when . . . when full-speed ahead was not a choice but an easily rechargeable modus operandi.

Before launching into our final run of the day, my first-born complains that her helmet's chinstrap is causing a hurt under her chin. It is tight. I loosen it. Obviously, her confidence isn't the only thing that has grown over the winter. My baby! I'll remember this winter, the one when my daughter hit milestones on the slopes.

With the slope steepening, I remind my daughter to make turns. Skiing in a tuck beside me, she asks, "Do we have to turn on this one?" It's not a protest. I know her, she's asking as a good student. My answer is honest, too. "Just stay in control." She reaches down to scoop some snow to eat.

With spring weather coming on strong, we'll soon strip into shorts. Biking shorts. My little skier has been slow to biking. At last ride, she wasn't ready to drop the training wheels. I'm sure I'll remember saying that.

Enjoy the spring, and make memories.