On Thin Ice

As a teenager, my hairdo mimicked that of Olympic Gold Medal figure skater Dorothy Hamill, but that's where our similarities ended.  I can't ice skate.  I never really learned how.  The few times I've been out on a skating rink, my ankles wobble and I end up spending more time sitting than moving on the ice.  My mom took my childhood friend and neighbor Sandy and me ice skating on a little rink in town when I was around eight or nine years old.  Sandy and I were just about equally skilled on the ice, wobbling and falling while Mom skated forward and backward around us.  I was amazed.  In my young eyes, Mom could do anything but being able to ice skate, too?  That was almost more than I could imagine.  Mom had grown up near a spot where a skating rink was made each winter, so she crafted her skill on the ice with time and practice.  I never did get the hang of skating but I still love to reminisce about that cold winter day some 45 years ago when Mom wowed two little girls on the ice.