In memory of dad

This Sunday, June 20, is Father’s Day, when dads across the country and the world will celebrate with their families. For some it’s a big get together with their children and grandchildren in a park or at their houses, others will have small gatherings with an aged parent.

Over the years with some of the friends I’ve made I found out how sometimes a father isn’t part of their children’s lives.

My dad was there as I grew up. He taught my three siblings and I how to ski. My earliest memories are being held by my dad slightly in front of him as we slowly went down a small ski hill, his quiet instructions in how to turn my skis in so to slow down, how he’d gently push to one side with a direction to turn one way and then another. We made wide turns down that hill to make sure I knew what to do. Then he would let me go on my own and I would make those wide turns to make sure I got down the hill. As time went by those turns became smaller and faster and every once in a while I took a tumble into the snow because I was going too fast. My dad would be there to help me get up and get my skis back on if they fell off. In our family we weren’t allowed ski poles until we could turn and not fall down too much. He taught us the basics of skiing and then had others who knew more about the sport teach us what they knew.

Our family would go skiing quite a bit. We skied at many places in northern Minnesota, near Duluth, the Twin Cities Metro Area, in Wisconsin and out to Montana where we skied in the mountains.

If you have a dad who taught you a skill, let him know how much you appreciate him guiding you.