Parenting Blog

The Hill I Never Slid Down (1984-2010)

Yesterday was my 1st time.

My parents and I moved into this house on June 22, 1984.  It was the summer of my 8th year, it was also the year my fascination with the city of Detroit began.  The Tigers, behind the arms of Jack Morris and Roberto Hernandez, bats of Kirk Gibson and Alan Trammel, and the glove of Lou Whitaker would, later that year, defeat the Padres to claim their 1st World Series.  I’d cheer for that team, and later the Motor City’s other teams – the Red Wings, Pistons and Lions – for a long time.

My childhood home, and still my parents home to this day, has a steep hill in the front yard.  When covered in snow, and maybe even not, it’s the kind of hill many would look at and remark: “That’s an awesome hill for sledding”.  Maybe.  I was never able to confirm that assumption until yesterday, as a 34-year-old dad with 2 little kids of my own.

My dad loved seeing the front yard covered in undisturbed sheets of white snow.  Therefore I was never permitted to walk on, sled down, or touch it after a snow storm. Someone get Montel or Sally Jesse on the line – oh my deprived childhood!

With our electricity knocked out since the Wednesday morning, we abandoned ship (sorry, Tilly!) and headed east for my folk’s place.  They have heat, a fireplace and that glorious hill.  Maybe he is getting softer, or realizes he had a good 25 years of seeing a perfect front yard at wintertime, but my father took much pleasure in seeing his grandchildren and his son and daughter-in-law go whizzing down in flying saucer discs.  In true Olympic spirit, we made side-by-side bobsled-lite tracks, with curves, mini-moguls and an ending that often had us flying over the snowbank and out into the street (as the Bear does in the clip below).

T’was well worth the 26 year wait!



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