Ski Trip to Italy 2015

Dear Amir,

First, a word of warning- this is going to be the longest letter about skiing EVER.

So I just got back from our ski trip to Paso Tonale with the boys, Tammy, Daniel and my dad. It was….in a word – intense. And fun, and beautiful, and tiring and hard and sad and meaningful.

Skiing has always been special to us. It was what we talked about on our first date, it was that thing we had in common. You know I was impressed that not only you could ski (not many Israelis are into it) but that you were one of the few Israeli snowboard instructors – certified! That alone warranted a second date :)

When we were dating, we went skiing together a couple of times. First to Les Arcs in France with a bunch of friends of yours I didn’t know. It ended up being a great time. One guy in the group, who became my ski buddy for the trip, was this doctor (Benny) who ended up performing Tomer’s C-section! Only you could make that happen. I’m sorry we lost touch with that family, who knew a lot of heartache themselves.

Our second ski trip was a romantic one just you, me and… your friend Reviv. Only you could make that happen. He was kind of the third wheel. But it was all good, really. We went to Val Thorens in France, stayed at a small boutique hotel called La Sherpa (we stole their pink towels! Which are great for Lia now by the way) Remember the hotel restaurant - amazing – right? Remember that soup? Never knew soup could be so good. That's one thing I concede to the French. Anyway, you and Reviv went off snowboarding during the day and I skiid solo doing my thing and then we’d meet for lunch and dinner. I remember Reviv joking about all the hot girls the two of you met on the slopes. He liked to see if he could push my buttons. He didn't get too far :), although I could tell it was making you squirm a little bit. The cool part about it was that later his ridiculous jokes became a joke between us. But what I think of now is that the beauty of our relationship is that we were both so secure with each other.

Then, came marriage and babies. Over the next few years I was always either pregnant or nursing and had to pass on a whole bunch of ski trips. So you went for a few years by yourself, two or three times a year, usually twice as an instructor and once on a personal trip with friends. Even though people would wonder, I never begrudged you that and actually quite the opposite- I was fine with it. And now - i think thank god I encouraged your trips. I always had plenty of help at home from my mom anyway. Actually, wow, if anyone else is reading this, then take it from me – let people you love do what makes them happy. And do what makes you happy – don’t put anything off. It’s one less regret you’ll have.

Then, several years ago in between pregnancies I finally had the chance to ski as well. First I went with two girlfriends to Club Med in Sestriere, Italy and then another trip with my brother Ron to Bulgaria. Both were great and Amir you stayed home with the kids. But we were both thinking the same thing – when will we go together and when will we take the kids??

So here comes the big regret. We never got to do it. For a while I suggested we take the kids but you kept putting it off for next year, “when they’re older.” I didn’t want to wait, but I should have listened to my instincts and pushed harder. Actually, that’s the way big decisions usually happened with us, whether it was to change jobs, renovate the house, buy new furniture, go abroad etc. I was the pusher and you were the resistee - until I’d convince you and then, only after you finally agreed, you’d go full throttle with all your energy and enthusiasm, completely taking over and carrying all of us. That is, once I got you over that threshold to decide to do something.

But with the ski I didn’t push hard enough. Then you got sick. Once you started chemo, it again became something we talked about a lot. It became the carrot on the end of the stick. I would hold it out and say when you get better, the first thing we’re doing is going on a family ski vacation. You would smile and sadly say that I was dreaming and it wasn’t likely to happen. I wholeheartedly believed it would.

I could always picture us on a long winding slope, a blue - you, me and the boys (Lia wasn’t eligible yet for this fantasy). I could see you yelling encouragement, tips, hopping up and down on your board, pulling, tugging, pushing and doing tricks for the boys to get them into it. I could picture you coming up behind dean and giving him little pushes so he would overtake tomer and feel that he “won” (like you did on bike rides). I could see me skiing easily off to the side, either with a little smile or a reprimand once in a while that you are pushing them too hard or teaching them wrong. Yes, I could be like that. After a few days, I could see them following you like little ducklings down the hill.

Ah well you were right, that never happened.

It may seem weird to some but I decided to take the boys anyway, only 5 months since you’ve been gone. It seemed like honoring you could be either never to ski without you again, or to ski all the more and I thought to plunge in and take the boys and show them what it is that you loved so much. And sure enough, some very interesting, very good and very emotional things happened.

We went to Italy like I said and now it was my job alone to do all the “heavy lifting”. That means getting them dressed and ready to go with all their equipment every morning by 9 so they don’t miss their group lesson. Dealing with Dean’s minor tantrums because his pinky toe itched after everything was finally on, that he hated the gloves and his goggles and the helmet strap and he was too hot and then thirsty and then …you know.

The funny thing was, on the first day just when I was just about to give up, thinking he’s too young for the group and he’ll be with me the whole time, the instructor barked a command – for all the kids to put one leg in the air. In a second, Dean suddenly forgot about the itchy pinky toe and everything else and shot his leg up like a bullet, easily balancing on one leg. I took that as my exit cue and ran off to get myself ready for a morning of skiing with grownups, just managing to snap a quick pic. that's dean on the right with the orange skis, lifting his leg like a good soldier :)

Ah, so what can I say – both tomer and dean inherited your gene for sliding down snow covered mountains. Every morning they’d do their group lesson, then tammy and I would meet them at lunch and ski with them till around 3. here's how I found Dean one day when I went to meet them for lunch:

I got some QT, skiing alone with each boy. We did the super fast, narrow, windy red slope which we called “Dean’s run” because he just flew down and waited for the rest of us at the lift. Another favorite of both boys was the snow park with the jumps I managed to get on camera. WATCH THIS!!!

Tomer took a little longer to get into it, but once he did, he was less speedy but with perfect control. I was so proud of Tomer overcoming 2 major fears – his fear of heights on the ski lift and the steeper slopes. He skiid slowly and in total control. Dean was more kamikaze style. Of course, each thought his way was better and tried to convine the other.

For the first few days, they had 2 instructors, an Italian woman and Stav, their Israeli translator. Stav was on a snowboard. One day I was spying on them during their lesson. Stav saw me on the run and came up to me. She said that the boys told her about you. She said how sorry she was and how she had no idea. She said it sounds like it was a recent thing. I thanked her, told her it was, and why we came – because you were a snowboard instructor and how this trip has a lot of meaning for us. She said the boys told her that too. I said, maybe she knew you – Amir Sivan? And she fell to her knees in the snow, cried “nooooo…” and then I started crying. She said it was you who taught her to snowboard.

The whole rest of that day (it was the second day of the trip), was very emotional. I saw you everywhere, in the shapes of the mountain tops, in the cloud formations, in the valleys. I talked to you on the lifts when I was by myself and when I picked up speed on the run, I felt that I could just take off and reach you in the sky. It was a hard day and when it was getting really hard to hold back the tears, I started questioning whether the whole trip was a good idea. When I told the boys that you taught Stav to snowboard, their mouths dropped, they were shocked but also so proud.

The next day there were no more tears. The weather was perfect, sunny, warm, great snow. Stav flew back to Israel (I got her number) and the boys got two new instructors – Abdul, a Druze from Majd Al Champs and Yossi. And of course, they knew you too. I spoke a lot with Abdul who gave me many hugs and tried to be really comforting. I bet that you really liked him too. Abdul and Yossi presented the boys with their trophies and certificates at the end of the course.

In the next couple days, we made sure to take time off so that the kids could just enjoy playing in the snow, which remember – it was the first time they ever experienced (that time in NY doesn’t really count). The place was gorgeous; we had huge open spaces covered in deep snow right in the hotel’s backyard. We made a snowman and took the sled out and dug a tunnel and just had a grand old time. I know they made memories that will be implanted in their brains. Maybe one day, when they’re fathers, they’ll read this letter and see the trip from my eyes and that will be interesting.

So that’s about it – the longest letter in the world about skiing.

Love and miss you.

-me