I was packing yesterday and came across a memory. This is one of the things about the moving process––actually, it's about the ONLY thing about the moving process––that I enjoy... Coming across items or mementoes I've forgotten. That happened to me last night.
Take a look at the golf score card below. Notice the "9" on the sixth hole by Mark's name...
I ran across this last night and was taken back to an afternoon in Loveland, Colorado, probably seventeen years ago now, when Joe and I played golf with Mark and Michelle Young, some friends of ours from where we used to live out there. Well, Mark's a great golfer but was obviously having an off day. Especially on that sixth hole. I can still see it so well. He kept hitting the ball and it kept plinking into the water. The thing was...Michelle and I got so tickled. We tried not to laugh at first, but you know how that goes. The more frustrated Mark became, the funnier it got.
I read that card last night, saw the "9", and just giggled. Memories are so precious. So are the friends who help make them.
Then as I cleaned out another drawer, I came across this picture...
It's Mark and Michelle, and me and Joe at Winter Park, Colorado (1990) on our (Joe's and my) first time skiing. Joe and I didn't have any ski paraphernalia, so Mark and Michelle loaned us stuff and off we went! Michelle let me borrow her pink jump suit. Lovely, isn't it? Not to worry, you saw me comin' for miles!
After a few runs on the bunny slope, Joe and I graduated to greens and we rode the ski lift with Mark and Michelle up to green run called Allan Phipps. My world has never been the same.
Joe took to skiing pretty naturally. Me? Not so much. Michelle and Joe took on off, blazing a trail. And Mark, patient man that he is (except for golf, apparently), stayed behind with me, giving me pointers, as I inched down Allan Phipps. I don't exactly remember the progression of Mark's words of wisdom and encouragement, but I do remember what they finally boiled down to. "Tammy, keep your butt down!" How eloquent. I remember looking down the mountain, ski tips pointed inward, trying not to break my neck, and being so scared of the slippery slopes and bumps in the trail.
It's funny now, looking back, but it wasn't that day, especially when blind skiers (and I'm not kidding) started lapping me. Truly. I was halfway down the mountain on the Allan Phipps run when a blind skier who had passed me once, led by their guide, passed me again, going down for a second time. There's a spiritual lesson in there, for sure, which I won't delve into now, but the laughs Mark, Michelle, and Joe and I shared once I finally made it down...oh, those are still precious. To this day, Mark says he still can't see pink without shuddering.
In Ecclesiastes 4:10, it's written:
If one falls down, his friend can help him up. But pity the man who falls and has no one to help him up!
I'm so thankful for friends in my life who have been, and who are, here to help me up when I fall. Or when I'm going through a "down" time in life. Friends make all the difference.
I pray you have friends like that in your life, and that you are a friend like that to others.