What We Remember About April
April is that wacky season of paradox here in our mountains, cold enough to snow some days, while on others, kids and adults alike jump in our rivers (full of icy snow melt). We might hit 75 degrees and then 10 the very next day. This is why this April especially, I’m looking ahead to leaving the state for our April vacation, which technically runs into May. We are headed to Frankfurt, Germany, to spend nine glorious days being tourists with Geoff’s sister, her husband Brian, and other friends who have become family.
Our brother-in-law Brian has been planning our trip's itinerary, considering what historical and cultural experiences (including train rides) will be the most conducive to our family mobility needs. He has been amazing, and I plan to be able to tell you all about the adventure when we return in May, and spring has then fully arrived here in northern NH.
But until then, I wanted to share an adventure with you that took place in April before I began writing for the Christopher & Dana Reeve Foundation. As parents, we talk about showing our kids the world through our own lens, hoping that one day they will make their own choices about adventure and the great outdoors. Maybe, they will remember how we were their first adventure buddies, along with some of the most amazing friends and grandparents any two children could ask for. And, well, maybe they won’t... But, I do know that when our kids look back on their childhood, they will feel like Geoff and I do about our own.
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Our parents were able to give us the best parts of growing up in safe, beautiful places, with a lot of fresh air, scrapes, and bruises-- maybe the best balance between broken bones sustained in recreation and enough chores and life skills to make us strong, resilient, and enthusiastic “livers of life.” Some of my favorite memories were spent out in our backyard, playing in the woods, riding bikes, or getting the giant bonfire together for neighbors to enjoy. Some of our kids’ favorite early childhood memories include hiking GIANT mountains while friends literally dragged their dad in his mono-ski so he could experience great backcountry skiing too.
This is one of my favorite trips; the kids were old enough to mostly get themselves up to Tuckerman’s Ravine independently. And then they beat us all down to the bottom skiing the Sherbourne Trail like tiny little ski maniacs, a trail whose narrowness made their mother ski slowly and with considerable caution. But in the photo at the top, we were together, happy and proud of all that had been accomplished. Little legs that hiked parts of Mt. Washington with their disabled dad, whose love of adventure may be only superseded by countless outdoor friends who would follow him (and us) and anywhere.
And so when April (or life in general) is bound to get rough again as it often does, we will remind our children of where they have been, and how that will help them to get to where they are going; even if the ground is all uneven and tough going right now. More importantly, we will remind ourselves of that journey, too and be forever grateful to the moms and dads who walked these paths before us, helping us to find our own way too.