Missing My Brave Ski Mom

This post has been 5 months in the making. So many times I’ve sat down to write it, and so many times, I couldn’t begin to type. It was just too hard. But with Thanksgiving tomorrow, I am feeling thankful for you, for my family and friends, and for my mother, who passed away unexpectedly on June 2. Today, I am missing my brave ski mom and I’d like to tell you why.

A Brave Ski Mom

My mom was a brave ski mom. Along with my wonderful ski instructor dad, my parents introduced my brother and me to downhill skiing and cross-country skiing. Our first introduction to snow, however, was riding with my mom on a wooden dogsled, as my dad ran his team of three samoyeds. My parents were both born in Western Colorado and grew up with winter in the La Plata and San Juan mountains. The choices were either embrace cold, snowy fun or stay inside. They didn’t want to stay inside.

A Brave Ski Grandmother

My mom was a brave ski grandmother. While my parents had largely pivoted from downhill to cross-country skiing when our sons were born, my mom skied with them, resulting in this memorable comment from one of her little fans, who was probably 4 the first time they skied together. “Gigi, you’re a much better skier than I imagined,” said our son. This made her laugh. She’d been skiing for over 50 years, he’d been skiing for 2.

My mom cheered our sons during their ski racing days. She made warming meals and invited us over on Sundays when we came down from the mountain. At the holidays, she happily gifted them with ski clothing and gear. She did the same for my brother and me. Several Christmas mornings, we’d awaken to find that Santa had brought new skis.

A Western Colorado Life

When it came to cross-country skiing with her children and grandchildren, family dogs always included, my brave ski mom made it fun, bringing special treats and her unique brand of unabashed enthusiasm. She always had a smile on her face and was game for a winter-time family adventure.

In addition to winter sports, my mom loved the Colorado mountains at any time of year. Her parents had a cabin — which remains in the family — south of Telluride in one of the most beautiful spots in the world. It was her favorite place on earth. Summers at the cabin included kayaking and lots of hiking. Again, her enthusiasm for being outdoors was contagious and she generously shared it with all of us.

The Importance of Music

And while the mountains and her multi-generation Western Slope heritage colored a lot of what she pursued — and taught us to pursue — I often say that while she loved her family first, music was her second love. A talented violinist, she was well-known in our community as a founding member of the local symphony orchestra and is much missed by her fellow musicians and audience members alike.

She shared this love of music with us and we will miss our ramshackle family ensembles during the holidays.

With the Pain, Comes Thanksgiving

When someone dies, we’ve found that there is both a welcome release from suffering for the deceased and immediate pain for the survivors. I can honestly say that when I was in the thick of this pain, I couldn’t have written any of these words. It’s not as well-polished as I would like, and while I know I have a library of wonderful family photos I could share, I don’t have the bandwidth right now to go through them.

What I do have is the desire to say thank you to my brave ski mom. She loved my father, her friend of 80 years and husband of 63 years (they met at age 5), my brother and me, her daughter-in-law and son-in-law, and her four grandchildren with abandon. She was always smiling, often laughing, and constantly seeking adventure in her pursuit of a full life.

This Thanksgiving will not be easy. But we will light a candle in her memory, give thanks for her life well-lived and ski — all in honor of my brave ski mom.

Thank you and I wish you and your families the happiest of Thanksgivings.

Here’s to winter! It’s finally here.

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