The day was magnificent as we reached Quebec, Canada for the beginning of our ski excursion. Although it hadn’t snowed much on the mountains, there were machines up and running much earlier than I even planned on waking up. As to be expected, there were some spots that had been neglected to be covered with snow. I had loved skiing since I was younger, and Quebec was known for being one of the nicest areas east of the Rockies. I couldn’t wait. I suited up for that morning, trying to rush just to get onto the beautiful terrain. Everything was perfect.

My family decided that the first step our vacation was to take the gondola all the way up to the summit. Once we got there, my sister and I started racing down the hardest trails we could see, as we always did, with the parents trailing behind. We all stayed on the same path until the trail forked, with a menacing black on one side and friendly green on the other. My mother took the green while the rest of us took the more challenging path. While easily making our way down, my father and sister noticed a large hill, which I hadn’t noticed, since I was far behind. I saw my sister bare right to get it, but she was quickly cut off by my father who was the most advanced skier.  He went over the hill and neither my sister nor I saw him continue down the mountain. After that things seemed to move in slow motion. I saw my sister looking down from the top of the hill.

“Are you okay?” I heard my sister yell down to my dad. I skied over to see what happened. My gut twisted and I felt a grave mood fill the air. I saw my dad laying down at the bottom of a cliff like structure, looking so vulnerable in his moment of agony.

“Did you fall?” I asked, assuming that he would get up, being the strong skier that he had always been. There was no response.

“I’m going to ski down and tell mom what happened!” I heard my sister spit out, right before whizzing down the rest of the trail and meeting my mother at the bottom where both trails had merged. I decided to stay with my dad. In the moment, I found myself in a tough situation. I knew that my dad would need help, but being juvenile, I wasn’t used to giving any help. I was only used to receiving it, usually from people like him. For the first time, I was in an unjustified position of power. I didn’t know what to do. The strongest thing I had ever known was taken from me in a matter of seconds.

The next few moments were hard to remember, but I do recall Ski Patrol taking him down in a stretcher and into an ambulance, where they told my mother which hospital to go to. We rushed in the car and all I could think of was the image of my dad laying motionless on the ground. Everything was supposed to be perfect. It always was when we went on vacation, and if not, the dilemma could always be fixed That was the outcome I was hoping for. When we got to the hospital I began to ask my mom all the questions that were flooding my mind.

“Did he break his leg?”

“Yes, but they can fix it.”

“Will he ever get fully better?”

“They will fix him up the best they can….” I knew that this was the appropriate answer to tell a child when you know that things would never get fully better. It will always be broken, he will never completely recover, and he will always have to live with at least a limp. This was not perfect. I couldn’t even imagine a big change like this that would last forever. It had never happened before, and I hadn’t imagined that it would ever happen, until that moment.

The later events are inconsequential except the fact that I started to imagine future years where my dad would always have a limp to remind him of this terrifying event. Eventually the factor of it’s-not-going-to-change settled in and I accepted it. It was bad, but it happened and there was nothing that the strongest man in the world could do to fix himself. I knew that my dad wasn’t the omniscient being, and so I assumed no one was. I had to come to terms with the fact that my dad was the best he could be, and although he tried to be strong in front of me, he had weak spots like the rest of us. I learned in that moment that not everything could be fixed, and those are the moments that make you grow up the most in life.