Skiing, and Talking

Soft snow-flakes floated lazily down on the other side of the huge picture windows.  I pulled my ski-jacket closer and snuggled down into it's warm collar.  It was chilly, even inside the ski lodge, probably because it was so big.  What's more, skiers kept opening the doors, letting icy blasts of air whip in and around those of us sitting in the chairs, watching people whoosh down the slopes in front of us.


Even cold, I was in paradise!  All my life I'd dreamed of snow, and lodges, and crackling fires in huge fireplaces, and sitting in a resort, holding a cup of hot cocoa in my hands as I watched it snow.  My dream had come true. 


I was at Sun Rise, a ski resort high up in the White Mountains of Arizona, and I was having a ball even though I wasn't skiing.  My brother-in-law and his wife had invited Sheldon and I to come skiing with them, and we had jumped at the chance.  Skiing was fast becoming Sheldon's favorite hobby, but since he could only indulge it a few months out of the year we had to go whenever we could.


We had gone once the previous winter and I'd enjoyed myself.  I wasn't good, by any means, but I had started to get the hang of it.  This winter I was five months pregnant, expecting Alyssa, and everyone thought it best if I didn't get out on the slopes.  But at least I could watch.


I'd had a nice morning so far, sipping cocoa and reveling in the the winter atmosphere.  I'd even started knitting a baby blanket, or tried to.  I wasn't very good at knitting. 


A cold breeze swirled around my legs as a new group of skiers stamped into the lodge.  I glanced up, then went back to my knitting.  I had to watch every stitch to make it turn out right.  Out of the corner of my eye I saw a woman sit down in the chair next to mine, so I looked up and smiled.  She grinned back, stripping off her ski gloves and settling down into her chair. 


"Hi," I greeted her.  "Looks like you've been having a great morning."


"Oh, it's been lots of fun," she agreed happily, looking over at my sad attempt at a baby quilt.  "That color is beautiful," she praised.  "What are you making?"


"I'm trying to make a baby blanket," I told her, "but it's my first time knitting, so I'm not sure what it will turn out like."


We had a good time, commiserating on the difficulties of knitting, and I explained that I was expecting my fourth baby, which was why I sitting here in the lodge instead of skiing.


Eventually our conversation turned to her.  "I'm just learning how to ski," she told me, "and I'm not in very good shape.  I decided I'd come in and take a breather while the rest of my family goes down a couple of tougher runs.  But I'm having a great time."


I enjoyed visiting with her, learning about how she had recently married into a family who loved skiing.  This was her first time on the slopes.  Eventually the conversation wound its way around until she was telling me about her first marriage, and how it had ended. 


"I never dreamed I'd get divorced," she said.  "I never wanted to.  But my husband was dead set on leaving me, and in the end there wasn't anything I could do."

It sounded to me like she was protesting too much.  If she really didn't want a divorce, surely she could have done something about it.  I figured it was OK for me to judge.  After all, I'd stuck with Sheldon even after he told me about his infidelities, and I thought I'd made a pretty good job of our marriage. 

About then my new friend's family came back into the lodge and we said goodby.  It had been interesting talking to her, but I was just as glad to get back to my knitting.  Soon Sheldon came in to get something to eat, and then my sister-in-law joined me while she caught her breath and the boys went back out.  It wasn't long before it was time to leave.

Funny, but I forgot all about that conversation for three years.  Then I was ashamed of myself.  I had sure been self-righteous and judgmental, even if I only thought it in my mind.  You know what they say, "Never say never", and they're right.