The Sky’s the Limit: My Journey with Maryellen

It’s clear that Maryellen wants to ski, so even though the last time I skied was the worst day of my life, I tell her we can go. We dig dusty boots, skis, and poles out of the shed and strap in. The heavy old cross-country gear is nothing like what I use at home. My feet feel like cement blocks.

Maryellen clomps over to the pond to start on flat ground. I’m not much steadier on skis than she is, and we wobble our way there and fall down hard. Somehow that makes us both laugh, and with each laugh the knot in my chest that skiing has carried since that terrible day loosens. Maryellen has reminded me skiing is supposed to be fun.

We push off and glide, and soon we’re both skiing smoothly. I show Maryellen how to herringbone up to the trail and snowplow with her ski tips pointed in, and down we go. I stay steady while Maryellen holds her own for a first-timer. We round a curve, pick up speed, and I fly over a bump, landing with a soft, wonderful thump.

It occurs to me that when I get home, I could ask Emma about skiing just for fun again, maybe a run or two before practice like we used to. I bet she’d say yes.

Maryellen catches up and asks if this is really my first time skiing. I admit I’ve skied before, I just thought I didn’t like it. Now, thanks to Maryellen, I remember how much I love it.