Archive for the ‘think about it’ Category

Thank you all for the support, love, and wisdom you’ve given to my family and me over the past few days.  It’s meant so much to us.

We are all feeling much better around here.  Lily especially is doing incredibly well, aside from a little sore back.

This experience has certainly changed the way I am looking at the world.  Everyday feels like a gift.  Small and simple things seem so lovely.

Forgive me for being sentimental and rambling, but I am sharing a few of the things that have made me happy over this past week.

Is there anything better than homemade well wishes?  Lily’s cousin sent this wonderful 3-D card.  I need to find a way to keep it forever.

Me too, sweetie.  Me too.

If you are feeling at all blue, please make these muffins.  I swear rubbing sugar and orange zest together in your hands is good for whatever ails you.  The smell is pure joy.

Speaking of happy smells… my children, just out of the bath, in their soft pajamas, snuggling up while we read a good book.  If only I could bottle that feeling and smell.

Stitching is such a simple pleasure.  I can’t help loving happy stacks of fabric ready to be cut and made into something good.  Why do I so love putting together a neat stack of fabric for a project?

That lovely pink cyclamen at the top of the page is on my kitchen table.  Since I sew at my table, it is just a few feet away.  Have you ever noticed that some, only some, cyclamen have a faint but wonderful smell.  It will stop you mid-stitch when you catch it’s scent.

Yesterday I delivered a Valentine lunch to my kids at school.  It wasn’t really all that special, I cut their sandwiches into a heart, I made their favorite celery and Laughing Cow cheese and I included cake balls that my sister had made.  I wrote each of them a Valentine card included in the bag.

When I delivered the lunch, my son was already coming down the hall.  When he caught sight of me, he broke out into smile and I thought my heart might burst.

How have I never noticed how many lovely moments make up each day?

This has been an emotional week for my family and me.  I’ve hesitated whether or not I wanted to write about it, but I feel deeply that what our family experienced was a miracle and by telling the story, I hope to express some of the gratitude I feel for the gift we were given.

Last Saturday my husband took our sweet 9 year-old twin daughters skiing.  I stayed at home with our son who was sick with a bad cold.

The three of them were having a wonderful day. It’s been so fun this year to watch my girls really improving and getting more confident.  By late afternoon they lined up to take one last run on a lift that the girls had wanted to ski all day.

As they waited in line, my husband noticed the lift attendant at his post next to the loading zone. They were loading mid-mountain, which means most people load at the bottom then every 10th chair is left empty for skiers at the mid point.  The lift was also a quad so as the three of them skied up to the gate, a single gentleman hurried to join them.

As they skied through the gate to the loading zone my daughter Emma’s skis crossed with the single skier to her left.  My husband quickly helped her get untangled as the chair lift approached.  While his attention was on Emma, Lily who was on his right, didn’t get all the way into position and was bumped by the chair as it passed by. Instinctively she grabbed hold.

When my husband saw her hanging onto the outside of the chair, he cried for her to let go and even tried to push her hands off the bars, since it was much safer for her to just drop.  He looked toward the lift attendant fully expecting him to stop the lift, but no one was there.  My husband yelled for someone to stop the lift.  In fact, many people in the chairs behind and in line were all shouting for someone to stop the lift.  Things like this happen on chair lifts everyday.  When they do, the lift is stopped and all is well.  There were at least three lift operators on duty, one right next to the lift and two in the control shack with a big window overlooking the loading zone, who should have stopped the lift, but inexplicably all three employees had left their posts.

It happened so quickly, but despite my husband’s effort and shouts for Lily to let go, she clung to the outside of the chair lift.  In a matter of moments, the chair was off the ground and rising steeply.   Since the ascent was rapid and the drop dangerous my dear husband did the only thing he could do, he clamped his hands on top of our daughter’s wrists and held on for dear life.  Because she was wearing a thick coat and mittens, and he was wearing thick gloves, his grasp on her was precarious at best.  He couldn’t even get his thumbs wrapped around her wrist. It was more pinning her against the bar than holding her.  Within seconds they were 50 feet or more above the ground, heights that would surely be deadly if she fell, he exerted all his strength against her tiny wrists and held on.

Just outside the angle station, a ski patroller saw them and called from the ground, “Do you have a good hold on her?”  My husband shouted back, “NO!”

Over the next few minutes, my husband lived a parent’s worst nightmare.  Our daughter’s life was literally in his hands.  Despite his precarious hold on her, each time he considered trying to get a better grip, he felt strongly that he shouldn’t try to move at all.  Since she was hanging below the side and behind the chair, he was twisted awkwardly in his seat, stretching to reach her.  He was panicked that her mittens might slip off her hands and she would fall.  Throughout the ride, he was looking directly into her frightened eyes.  She told him several times she was scared.  He could see past her to the deadly height of the lift, the exposed rocks and trees and the hard-packed snow below.

Even though she was incredibly frightened, my husband was struck by Lily’s bravery.  She didn’t scream, she didn’t freak out, she tried to hold still and stay calm.

As several awful minutes passed, he became certain that his grip would not hold for the final ascent, he could feel her mittens slipping and she had begun to cry from the pain.  He looked ahead and saw the chair was coming over a ridge where the distance to the ground was perhaps 20 feet. It was also an area that doesn’t get skied much, so the snow looked like it was soft and not packed out. He decided that before the chair took it’s final steep ascent this was the time to try and get a better hold of her. He took a deep breath and reached down to grip her left forearm.  For the first time he felt like he had a good grip.  He thought if he could just get the second arm, he could pull her up into the safety of the chair.  But before he could try, without warning, she slipped out of his hands.  He watched her fall with a horror that cannot be described.  Emma screamed out Lily’s name and began to cry as she watched her sister fall.

The rest of the ride to the top was terrible beyond words for both my husband and Emma as they imagined Lily’s fate.  When they reached the top, my husband asked the shocked skier that had been with them on the lift, to stay with Emma, so that he could go at speed to reach Lily. He felt agony at leaving Emma with a stranger, but she was brave enough to put her sister first and wanted him to hurry to Lily.  He skied away hoping she was in good hands.  Luckily a kind group of skiers, who had witnessed it all unfold from the chairlift, asked Emma if they could ski with her down to her daddy, and they kindly brought her down at a safe speed.

By the time my husband reached Lily, two ski patrollers were already with her with several others arriving seconds after him.  Miraculously she survived the 20-foot fall without life threatening injury.  The area where she fell had been roped off because there were rocks too shallow under the snow for safe skiing.  But she missed every rock and fell into about 3 feet of fairly soft snow thanks in big part to a small snowstorm that came our way a few nights before.  The ski patrol carefully immobilized Lily and took her by sled down the mountain to the clinic. From there she was transferred by ambulance to Primary Children’s Medical Center.  But, despite how far she fell, Lily’s only physical injury was a sprained back and sore wrists.

There are not words to describe how we are feeling now.  This has been a terrible week for my husband as he had lived and relived each moment.

My strongest emotion is absolute gratitude.  Over the 2000 vertical feet the lift travels, there were two spots she could have escaped without serious injury or worse. One was making it safely to the top and the other was the very spot she fell. I have the strongest feeling that Lily was meant to fall in that exact spot.  As my sister-in-law so beautifully expressed, “Lily was brought down safely by angels.”

My husband is my hero.  He held on to her through great danger and brought her safely home.  Lily and her dad have always had a special connection and I know he did everything a father could to hold on to his daughter. I am so grateful he is strong and clearheaded.  I am so grateful he heeded the intuition or prompting he felt and didn’t try to get a better grip when the fall would have been deadly.

This has been a hard week for Emma.  She is tenderhearted and has been emotional.  She told me as she watched her daddy clinging to Lily on the lift she began to pray.  She prayed that if Lily fell, she would not be hurt. “And Heavenly Father answered my prayer.”

Lily has been subdued and quiet this week. I want to wrap her up in my arms each time I look into her pale, sweet face.  For anyone who knows Lily, it makes this story even more profound.  I know I am her mother, and every goose thinks her chicks are the fluffiest… but Lily truly does have the kindest heart.  It’s hard to be around her without feeling uplifted by her happy, sweet and loving spirit.  This week she just wants to be with her family and best of all to snuggle with her Dad. She has had a few nightmares and she is still sore, but she is remarkably resilient.

I have been amazed by how deeply this incident has affected me.  I have spent this week in a state of weepy emotion. I have thought deeply about our family.  Do I show my love enough? Are my actions each day in harmony with what I value most?  How can I help my family find wisdom and meaning in what has happened?  How can we show our gratitude?  How can we earn this gift we have been given?

I’ve set aside all things this week that weren’t really important and spent a lot of time thinking.  Life is truly beautiful, fragile and so precious. I hope to keep this knowledge in my heart for a long time to come.