I have no problem admitting and owning up to the fact that I woke up on Saturday with my grumpy pants on. I don’t know if that’s because I didn’t get enough sleep, or that it’s because the physio for my knee is taking longer than I’d like it too, or that the kids woke up early, or that it was a challenging week with work, bus cancellations, numerous level of sickness in the house, or something else entirely.  Whatever the cause – I was in curmudgeon mode and desperately wanted that first glorious coffee of the day.

As I sat there, enjoying a fresh brew and gazing out at the snow-covered landscape, the day ahead began playing out in my mind – rock climbing, skiing, tobogganing, dinner out, and a movie at the downtown cinema.  It seemed that, in classic Beandricks’ fashion, we may have over-extended ourselves, and me and my grumpy pants weren’t looking forward to it.  My whole life I have I struggled/suffered from wanting to relax but never knowing how.  I want to do it all and nothing all at once, and these competing thoughts have a tendency to catch up to me and I just end up being cranky.  As the morning progressed, however, I found peace with what lay ahead and gave myself over to not ‘being busy’ but instead ‘spending a day doing things I enjoy with people that make me happy’.  Then, it fell apart.

Once again sickness struck our home, and instead of scrambling around from one place to another, we suddenly had absolutely nothing to do; be careful what you wish for, I suppose.  As I’ve eluded to, the only thing worse than a jam-packed schedule is an empty one, and now I definitely wasn’t sure what I’d do with myself.  We cleaned, we packed, I went for a walk, I made some cookies, did the things that need doing around the house, and that only bought me until 10:30am.  Audrey was not feeling well enough to ‘do all the things’, but she also wasn’t down for the count, so it was at that time that I needed to round up the troops a develop a plan; and the girls came up with something rather perfect.

I assure you I have no idea where these kids get their little schemes and ideas from, but their plan to surprise Mom with an afternoon of skating could have been left at just that, but instead they insisted that we not only keep our destination a secret, but that she wear a blindfold in the car for the duration of our trip.  Of course, she could have a sense of bearings, so we also need to ensure we took multiple wrong turns, roundabouts and added commentary about our potential surroundings. My wife is a good sport, and our kids know how to bring joy and laughter into the seemingly simplest of things.

Despite taking me three paragraphs to get here, the skating rink itself is the central point of this post.  I’m not much of a skater myself – I’ve never been into hockey, either as a player or a spectator, and while I know how to skate just fine, I would barely call myself skilled.  That said, I do enjoy a good outdoor skating experience, and the rink across from Victoria park in Fergus is a gem that has somehow flown under my radar until now.  We discovered its magic the other day when Audrey and I spent the evening gliding across its glistening surface under the lights and a peacefully gently snowfall.  It was one of the moments that can’t be recreated, where the quiet of the air managed to hold time still so that everything could be taken in with care.

As we found our space on the ice, I watched as more and more kids laced up, grab their stick, and sped onto the ice.  It was clear that some knew each other, but most were strangers, but it didn’t matter either way – they were united over something that brought everyone joy.  A few moments later, one of the older kids yelled out, ‘Who wants to get a game going?’, and the resounding response left me feeling a sense of hope.  The group organized themselves quickly, and the game was underway; and as that happened, those not participating had plenty of room to continue their own thing, as the ice provided more than enough surface for plenty of activity.  Kids practicing their start and stop skills, two men around my age passing the puck back and forth, a couple of figure skaters dancing to the falling snow, and a heartwarming number of dads and their daughters practicing stick handling.   Every now and again someone on the ice would pick up one of the shovels and spend the next few minutes clearing the ice; it wasn’t anyone’s job to do, but rather everyone’s way of contributing. All these observations in a short period of time reminded me that community still thrives in all the best ways.

In my heart, Audrey’s suggestion to bring her mom back to the rink Saturday afternoon, meant that she felt something special too.  There was no expectation or intention to recreate the same scene, but I did have hopes for recapturing the feeling it provided, and I’m happy to say that we did.  Like me, Nora is not much for skating, but she found her joy in climbing the mounds and hills of snow that surrounded the rink, and Audrey, who has been working on her skills for a while now, was beyond proud to lead her mom and myself around the rink as she taught us everything she’s learned in her lessons.  We played on that ice for a while before capping off the outing warming ourselves up with a thermos of hot chocolate.  It was an experience that cost us nothing, and provided us all with what we needed on a day that went from overwhelming, to boredom, to disappointment in the morning; turning everything around by the afternoon with only an idea, a pair of skates, the desire to be together, and, yes, a blindfold.