Commitment and finiteness of time...

This is Eduardo. Eduardo will spend hours at the skatepark, he's there every single time I go. Last week I was teaching him BS kickturns on a small bank, proper foot placement and the concept of 'going for it.' He's very analytical, a perfectionist almost. He's always seeking tips and advice. A week and a half later he's ollie-ing, pumping around the small bowl and now has acquired his first ode to skating. It's bad-ass. Heck yeah Eduardo

On Golden Pond... || Rand Pond, Goshen, NH

I was lucky enough to get up to New Hampshire the last couple, few days with my Pop-pop. He's 87 now and up until probably the last ~year or so you wouldn't know it. Now, you know it. It's little things. Smaller steps, shuffling at time. Dragging along but he's still moving forward. "What?" is a common response. Or a misinterpretation of what you said. That's an easy fix, though, Pa...just wear your damn hearing aid.

We shared a really special moment during this trip that I'll hold close to my heart forever. I can feel a small emotional wave thinking about it. Pop-pop introduced skiing into my life many years ago and this turned into snowboarding which has cascaded into the most wild ride of my life so far. I'm thankful for him doing that. So on this last trip Pop-pop wanted to ski. I'm not sure when the last time he skied actually was as he somehow avoided answering every time. It was a process to make this happen, one that was a real eye-opener for where he's at physically. I mean he's fucking 87 years old, it's to be expected. It's just not the stubbornly independent Pop-pop I've known my whole life. I helped him with each buckle of his boots. I helped him with his helmet and goggles. I noticed his decreased dexterity. It bummed me out a little. Then I carried his stuff, and my stuff as we walked over to the bunny slope. This took upwards of 20+ minutes, and I was guarding his every step but trying to make it discrete so as to not make him feel bad. Fast forward to getting him in his skis and here I am literally pushing his butt as he double poled towards the chair. Still stubborn he is. He got off the chair and was able to link turns on the mellow slope. He's been doing it for years. He saw me video-taping and waved to the camera while simultaneously his down-hill ski got away from him and down he went. I've literally never seen Pops fall on skis. He just didn't fall. He was always in control. Next I had to remove his skis and help him up...slowly but surely. He managed to link a few more turns before getting to the bottom, 1 more fall included. Once we got to the bottom he double poled to the chair again.

"Pa, do you think we should take another lap?"
"No," he replied as his voice tapered off.

Another process it was to get Pa back to the lodge, get his stuff off, etc. It was at this time I think I had the realization that I took the last lap I ever would with my grandfather on his last lap ever probably. It left me feeling a lot of things - sad, grateful, happy and everything in between.

Thank you Pop-pop for using skiing as a medium to gain appreciation for so much.