Ski Jumping and Parental Awe

The more I write, the more I ask myself: Which stories are mine to tell?

My youngest son participates in ski jumping. It’s a fairly spectacular sport: Jumpers in a squatting position on especially wide and long skis, place the skis into a metal track, zoom down the steep track at high speed and cast themselves into a straightened body position which allows them to glide down the steep hill and land safely in an upright position before returning to a squat in order to brake the skis.

By now I have watched this process hundreds of times, weekend after weekend, performed by children as young as six on small hills, to the 8 and 9 year olds who advance to hills from 15 to 30 m, on up to the next group of older kids who may jump on hills anywhere from 40 to 70 m in length. As a family we’ve been at this for a little over 2 years and our son’s progress has been swift.

As a spectator I have learned a lot but I remain remarkably ill-informed about all the ins and outs of the scoring process, the finer points of measuring the distance jumped, and which wind is the good kind. I suppose, this is part of what makes watching a joy. I can lose myself in the aesthetics and daring of the enterprise. The risks are real, yet observed cases of real injury have been extremely rare.

My son asked me what it’s like for me to watch him in action. “Well,” I started, “I think I hold my breath, actually. I can film you and keep the camera still but I get pretty nervous, especially for the first jump.”

Meanwhile I was thinking but could not really find the words to describe the pride that swells in my throat, the relief that settles over me every time he returns from his flights unscathed, the sheer awe of watching him test the laws of gravity a little farther each time.

There is an unusual joy in being able to see our children succeed first hand. To witness my son’s satisfaction with his own performance becomes its own great gift.

While I cannot tell his story of sailing through the air on skis, I can tell my story of what it feels like to be connected to the person doing the sailing. Miraculous.

This is what my son watches for inspiration: