Once in a lifetime

I am cold, shivering, weary and worried.

They are late, 45 minutes late. It’s 10pm.
Where are the other parent's?
Does everyone know something I don't know?
I cannot reach Sally, her son is up on the mountain too.

Last week the mountain snow was penned historic by the media.
What will they call it this week? Mythic?

Into this mythic snow the public schools send
their young for Winter Enrichment.

"Mom, I know the trails like the back of my hand."
"Who knows the back of their hand?"
No one plans to have an accident; there are forces beyond
your control. "I'm smart mom, I know what I am doing"

This is the third week the school has gone up to the mountain.
Diego is an excellent snow boarder.
He teaches at a fine ski school on the weekends.
Each week I ask him to call, let me know he is ok, especially
today with this very unusual weather. Usually I can reach him,
or he calls back, but not today.

In my mind I see him clearly now, caught under a snow drift,
worse an avalanche of snow, struggling for breath.

I leave the car and force myself to go for a quick walk.

Something changed years ago when I first became a mother.
When May, my first daughter was born. I felt a profound shift in
myself and the universe. I stood for a long while at our
apartment window on 86th street in Manhattan.
It looked the same, but I knew inside, it was all different.

The years have gone by quickly and I have experienced
more of life’s ups and downs. Now, I look back now and think
many times I was reckless and foolish.

The summer before last a very athletic man,
a father we knew went for a summer
outing with 3 of his 4 beautiful children.
He selflessly jumped in a river to save a
drowning man and his daughter.
They were pulled into a freakish river vortex that
could not be seen from the calm water above.
Tragically all three of them drowned.
His four beautiful children were on swim team with my three.
He would run the lake every morning during their practice.
He was a tri-athlete,
I am sure he felt he could handle anything, like my son.

Don't think about anything, it is always ok, well usually ok.

Radio on, a distraction, radio blares Talking Heads,

“...and you may ask yourself-well...how did I get here?"

It's 1980, I am 27 and back in NYC.

"Letting the days go by, letting the water hold me down”…
"And you may ask yourself
What is that beautiful house?
And you may ask yourself
Where does that highway go?
And you may ask yourself
Am I right? ...am I wrong?
And you may tell yourself
My god!..what have I done?

Bus headlights in the rear mirror, it's 10:30pm
All kinds of vehicles converging, a moment ago there was nothing,
Now it is chaos, I am searching for his light colored coat, where is he?

I wear my worry on my face. Relief, I see him.
I can see he is afraid I will embarrass him.
He remembers, he should have called...
"I'm sorry mom, but you worry too much"

I forget I am upset and a bit hurt, I forgive and do not admonish
or make a consequence for not calling, I am so relieved he is home.