Today is February 5th. Whenever I see that date, I have vivid memories come rushing back into my mind. I will always remember February 5th. I was 13 years old in February of 1983. On the 5th I went on my first skiing trip - with our church group. We went to the Homestead Resort, about 2 hours away from home. I can vividly remember the windy roads going up the mountain. I can remember my ski lesson on the bunny slope and my first two or three times down the bunny slope. I can see in my mind vividly getting in line for the ski lift to go up to the intermediate hill. My first trip down was quick and exciting. And I remember getting in line to go up again.
I remember starting down the hill at the top. I can remember thinking that I was going faster than I wanted and that the snow felt icy. The next I remember, I was laying on the ground and I remember seeing skis stuck in the snow in an "X" formation. And I remember sliding down the hill on a toboggan.
I can remember laying on the table with a ski boot on my foot getting ready to get my leg x-rayed. And I can remember their telling me my leg was broken. I can remember my mother crying on the phone when she was told (gosh, she didn't cry when I told her 18 months ago that I had broken my foot!)
On February 5th, 1983, I went skiing for the first time and broke my leg. 12 weeks in a cast, my dance season cut short and many activities changed that year. I bet that my mother doesn't remember that it was Feb 5th. But I do, and I think I always will.