Hi readers, before you start, I wanted to share a little backstory. Thirteen years ago, when I fell, my grandfather’s words of comfort were: “We fall some, but it is all part of growing up.” At that time, hearing these words filled me with childish joy; I was growing up to be like the adults – brave and courageous. Now at the age of seventeen, those exact words meant something entirely different. 


 

For some, this ends up being the mystical day of ‘unexpected hospital appointments’ or ‘sudden illnesses’. For others it’s the most memorable moment; they’ve been eagerly waiting for a year to dump school work and be with friends on the mountain. I belonged to the latter category. The weather was unconditional perfect; one could ski without the extra load of winter gear and enjoy the subtle sun that had claimed the day. My friends and I repeatedly went up and down the bunny hill, zigzagging between little munchkins and racing to the end within a matter of seconds. As much fun as it was, it started getting boring after the 23rd run down – the same thing over and over.

“Hey Hefseeba, let’s go on the green run,” suggested Oba.

I glanced at the slopes and watched skiers and snowboarders whiz by, expertly twisting and turning, leaving a track as crisp as a paint stroke.

“Trust me, it’s not that bad.”

Seeing my hesitation, Oba advised me to join him if I felt ready.

“If I die, make sure you write a good eulogy,” I joked before agreeing to the offer.   

Seeing the slopes from above, I began gaining confidence for it looked manageable; however, all that was lost when I fell getting off the chairlift. The person beside me had grabbed unto my poles as they crashed – wonderful, I am off to a great start.

I’ll admit though, the view was absolutely beautiful; the snow was like glitter, sparkling in the beaming sun. The trees followed a precise outline along the mountain ridges providing a perfect contrast against the pale ground. From where I stood, all I could see were miles and miles of stone piled upon stone, glazed with winter’s frosting. Skiers and snowboards gracefully swung along the tracks racing towards the bottom, only to come right back up.

I snapped on my skies, adjusted my helmet, and prepared to take off. The first slope was perfect; the fresh, calm air filled me with peace and confidence. Picking up speed, I pursued Oba’s trail and hoped that the way down remained easy. If my wishes were granted, then this storying would have been unbearably boring. So, as expected, I ended up being the victim of a monstrous slope. I forced myself into a deep pizza and hoped I would not go flying off the mountain. My prayers were answered; I only went flying down the mountain. After skidding about 10 meters, I came to stop.

“Come on Hefseeba, keep going, your doing good”, he gently urged me forward. As scary as it was, it was just as amusing. I laughed out loud at the mental image of me flailing down the slope at 1000 km/hr. Thank God I didn’t get hurt. Motivated to reach the bottom, I pursued after Oba and once again began to enjoy the peaceful atmosphere of all the beauty surrounding me.

Along the way there were more quick stumbles and falls, but none like the one yet to come. As I rounded the corner, the soft bend suddenly disappeared – like literally vanished. I look at Oba in confusion and wondered if we had taken a wrong turn. A skier flew by me and over the ledge. I almost screamed out in fear but then I realized that that was a slope. The slope was so steep that you could not see beyond the ledge. I turned to Oba, completely and utterly shocked.

“That is not supposed to be part of the green run and I cannot do that,” I stated and refused to go over.

“Come on Hefseeba, give it a try, I know you can do it,” he urged.

God bless Oba, I would still be standing at the top if it weren’t for him. I drew in the biggest gulp of breath and slowly went over the ledge. Initially it went pretty good, I focused on turning from left to right to maintain control, but half way down I lost my cool and started seeing the ice monster hidden beneath the snow carpet. I lost control, started gaining speeding and zipped down the mountain. I’ll admit at first it was exhilarating, I loved the freedom associated with leaving everything behind and letting go for once; however, I snapped out of that trance when I realized I was heading straight for the trees. I tried to turn my body away, but by then I had gained too much speed and the ski went on its on will. I tilted my body only to buckle in and land on my right knee. The impact of the ski snapping of twisted my knee and at that moment I felt a searing pain ripping through my knee and paralyzing my lower thighs. I rolled around, my body spun and I was diving straight down the mountain head first. Ignoring the pain in my leg, I jerked my body to be perpendicular to the mountain and finally came to a stop.

“Shucks. . .  I really messed up this time,” I whispered.

Oba was beside me in a matter of seconds and sat down.

“Are you okay?”

“Umm, I don’t think so.”

“Can you ski down?”   

“Oba my knee man, it really hurts. Why don’t you head down, I’ll walk the rest, besides we’re not that far.”  

“Are you sure? I can walk down with you.”

“No, No it’s okay, head down, I’ll be there in a bit.”

With hesitation he took off and I set about limping down the mountain. I attempted to walk as normal as possible; however, my right knee, having taken most of the impact, gave out and I crumpled to the ground. Okay, so this was going to be harder than I thought. I pushed myself of the ground, hoisted my skis unto my shoulder, and putting all my weight on the left foot, I dragged myself down a couple meters.  

“How ya doing?” an Australian voice asked from behind.

“Not perfectly well, but decent,” I replied before turning around.

A young man with the most unique beard color – a copper red- stood offering a hand for support.

“Why don’t you sit down for a bit, that knee looks worse than decent. I’ll send for a toboggan,” he said as he helped me sit down.

“I’m Zac, by the way, and I’m on the lookout for troublemakers like yourself who get hurt on the slopes,” he teased.

Laughing I replied, “I’m Hefseeba, thank you so much for your help.”

It was in those few minutes of waiting that I finally began to experience the pain and realize the seriousness of my injury. My right thigh went rigid in effort to ease the pressure from my knee and my knee went numb in pain. In an effort to distract myself, I attempted to  recollect the adventures of the past hours; however, my thoughts drifted back to an experience of long, long ago. 

The gentle tone of my grandfathers voice reminded me that in the adventures of life we all fall some, it just fits under the category of living and learning. With that thought in mind, I became all the more determine to get back on the mountain – that is, after my knee gets better!

 

Thank you so much for reading my anecdote. If your interested, follow this link to read We Fall Some Prt 1 

 


Featured Image: https://giphy.com/gifs/skiing-jBXkjBec4PFpC

 

 

 

Print Friendly, PDF & Email

4 thoughts on “We fall Some Prt 2 – Anecdote”

  1. Dear Babiju,

    I really loved this story. I love how you made me look so fatherly. I loved the voice of the story and the voice you gave to each character. When it came to the Australian guy I started laughing because I could picture the scene so well even though I wasn’t there. I loved your use of imagery to describe the conditions on the mountain.

    I would suggest next time you ski that you believe in your abilities so this doesn’t happen again. 😉

    Love you Lots
    Oba

  2. Hiiiii Oba,

    Thanks for you comment, I really appreciate it! Creating unique voices is something I have been working on since last year, and I’m happy that you were able to identify it!
    The next time I ski, I may have to still drag you up with me :).

    Love ya,
    Hefseeba

  3. Dear Hefseeba
    I loved this story, its a very simple subject but there are lots of lessons that can be taken away such as pretending that you are fine or ok but really you are not. Or that you remembered your grandfather’s advice and took it to heart. The part with the Australian dude was funny and I could just picture the scene. Some grows to work on I would say are to watch your spelling as I found multiple spelling errors. Other than that I enjoyed reading your anecdote.
    -Savannah

  4. Dear Savannah,
    Thank you so much for commenting! Yes, this experience was certainly an eye opener; I’ve always been so independent, it’s hard to except or ask for help! Thank you for your feedback as well, I will keep it in mind for when I edit it!

    – Hefseeba

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *