Skiing

A house on the next street has an animated Santa decoration. The lights on it make it look like Santa is skiing. On our way to church tonight B started talking about skiing. She doesn't know how to, and has never been on a pair of skis. DH told her that he could teach her because he's a great skier. She then told me that he could teach me to ski. I told her that I've tried and I'm not very good. I prefer to stay in the lodge while DH skis. I even admitted to her that the first time DH and I went skiing I broke a bone. (It was my nose.)

After Mass we called MIL's house to say hello to everyone there. I was on the phone with DH's sister (SIL) when she told me some horrible news. The DH of one of her best friends passed away last Saturday. He had survived Hodgkins and had been in remission for years. He and SIL's best friend married, had two children, and things were great. Then he started feeling ill in the early fall. It wasn't Hodgkins this time but some other blood cancer. The greatest cancer minds at Dana Farber were stumped. The oncologists treated him as aggressively as his cancer was. However, even a perfect match for a stem cell transplant failed him. Matt was buried on Wednesday. His sons are 5.5 and 3.5.

Matt was a great skier too. So is his DW. DH and I were one of four couples that used to go skiing in Vermont every President's Weekend. The other three couples were SIL and BIL, BIL's best friend and his fiancee, and Matt and SIL's best friend. We'd stay in town, and ski Killington every President's Weekend. We'd all drive in together; they'd drop me off at the bunny slope and then we'd all meet up for lunch and dinner. They all knew I couldn't ski worth a damn and I was much happier on my little green trail while they tackled the black diamonds. Dinners were a blast with this group. We were lucky to spend this time with them.

God bless you Matt.