The winter months in Wisconsin are a force to be reckoned with. As a Florida native, I am cautioned each time I tell a friend of my upcoming trip: “Milwaukee? At this time of year? What are you even going to do there?”
The purpose of our trek to the frozen tundra is to visit family. My wife Steph’s relatives live in Waterford and we book a five day trip to have some family time and tour one of the local universities her cousin has his eye on.
Our flight to Milwaukee is delayed four hours due to storms. I have no idea what to expect other than glacial temperatures (my phone tells me Milwaukee is in the low teens); I just hope we don’t encounter any blizzards. Steph and I are both excited to see her family, and Steph is ecstatic about our plans to go sledding.
I have never been sledding, but my one attempt at skiing last year leaves me wary. I am still afraid of getting hurt; no matter how much Steph reassures me it’s nothing like skiing I can’t help but picture the worst.
Our second day in Wisconsin, the group of us pile into Steph’s aunt’s minivan and head to the slopes. Note: I refer to them as “slopes” because I am a Florida girl through and through. Steph’s cousins, born and raised in Wisconsin, probably conquered these hills when they were all of three years old. They are bored after five minutes.
I am, of course, nervous to go downhill. The sleds are really just large pieces of plastic I am barely able to fit into. There is a flimsy rope to hold onto but it seems more decorative than anything. I know my in-laws are trying not to laugh at me; my clumsiness and intense fear of heights have me terrified I am going to hurt myself somehow.
Welp…here goes nothin’.
I scream like a five year-old as I begin my descent. After a few seconds I realize Steph is right; this is absolutely nothing like skiing. My sled slides straight forward and the hill isn’t nearly as steep as it looks. By the time I reach the bottom, I am laughing and have my hands raised up in the air. I turn around to see four looks of amusement. “Wasn’t so scary, was it?”
That. Was. Awesome.
I race back up the hill as I watch Steph and her aunt pile into their sled and make the descent together, laughing the whole way down. It turns out, the weather is beautiful and spending time with family outside in the snow is exactly what we needed to bring us together. Playing in the snow, going sledding for the first time and loving it, building snowmen and having a snowball fight — this is the good stuff in life.
I am spending time with family I haven’t seen in years. Surrounded by rolling hills blanketed with snow, the air is crisp and fresh and feels electrified somehow.
One of my favorite Tom Robbins quotes plays in my head: It’s never too late to have a happy childhood.
Today is proof of that very thing.
