Nov 8, 2023·edited Nov 8, 2023Liked by Alice Goldbloom
Oh, what a poignant piece so beautifully written. I loved ice-skating as a kid, even into late teen years. Then we moved to the tropics. I wanted to try it again when I moved back into the north. But something held me back. Aging. Accepting. Letting go. And finding different things to do, today. Thank you for bring back some wonderful memories and setting an example of how you're letting go. Sometimes I hold on too tightly fro too long to things that matter. Wonderful read, and as always, I thank you for your work.
I suspect most readers here will identify so much with the poignant way you describe 'letting go'.
It's the part of ageing that frustrates me and i must practice such equanimity in order not to become anguished about it all. There are things that I have been forced to let go, others that I am holding onto so hard. And plan to until the end, the Fates willing.
The saddest part of your essay for me was reading of the rivers and canals not freezing, because it underlines that awful heritage that we may have to pass to our grandchildren. Climate change is a terrible thing.
Thank you for a wonderful piece with such food for thought.
Your memoir piece brought back memories. My brother skated with other boys using sticks and a can for improvied ice hockey on the cemetary pond. Our father lay nearby, interred when we just turned 8.
As a novice, I didn't learn to stop, so ran into a ice rink wall, breaking my elbow. From then I left skating to those who glide so beautifully as you did.
My skates remained hung up on a nailhead in the basement for 48 years until last winter when a pipe burst and the insurance company came to clean and renovate my house. I hesitated to throw them in the dump truck . Yes, we had the every Sunday family skate in the Westmount arena and the occasional skate in Murray park .The children cried, the skates were too tight, they fell , around and around we went.... all fond memories and comforting thoughts, thank you for sharing.
Oh my - thank you for this exquisitely spun piece. Those skates not only take me into your life but somehow make their way into mine - yes, letting go is so hard to do.
Oh, what a poignant piece so beautifully written. I loved ice-skating as a kid, even into late teen years. Then we moved to the tropics. I wanted to try it again when I moved back into the north. But something held me back. Aging. Accepting. Letting go. And finding different things to do, today. Thank you for bring back some wonderful memories and setting an example of how you're letting go. Sometimes I hold on too tightly fro too long to things that matter. Wonderful read, and as always, I thank you for your work.
Yes, there is a lot of letting go along the way of aging - but maybe an acceptable variation will emerge.
What a beautiful piece.
I suspect most readers here will identify so much with the poignant way you describe 'letting go'.
It's the part of ageing that frustrates me and i must practice such equanimity in order not to become anguished about it all. There are things that I have been forced to let go, others that I am holding onto so hard. And plan to until the end, the Fates willing.
The saddest part of your essay for me was reading of the rivers and canals not freezing, because it underlines that awful heritage that we may have to pass to our grandchildren. Climate change is a terrible thing.
Thank you for a wonderful piece with such food for thought.
Your memoir piece brought back memories. My brother skated with other boys using sticks and a can for improvied ice hockey on the cemetary pond. Our father lay nearby, interred when we just turned 8.
As a novice, I didn't learn to stop, so ran into a ice rink wall, breaking my elbow. From then I left skating to those who glide so beautifully as you did.
Lovely story and meaningful to most of us of "a considerable age". Thanks
The story lovingly brings together history, place, family and the joys being relinguished with maturity.
My skates remained hung up on a nailhead in the basement for 48 years until last winter when a pipe burst and the insurance company came to clean and renovate my house. I hesitated to throw them in the dump truck . Yes, we had the every Sunday family skate in the Westmount arena and the occasional skate in Murray park .The children cried, the skates were too tight, they fell , around and around we went.... all fond memories and comforting thoughts, thank you for sharing.
What a beautiful essay on the art and practice of ageing. Thank you so much for sharing this memory - one that resonates for so many Canadians!
What a touching essay. Thank you for sharing how your skates are a powerful metaphor for your bravery and love of life.
Oh my - thank you for this exquisitely spun piece. Those skates not only take me into your life but somehow make their way into mine - yes, letting go is so hard to do.
Diane: Such a poignant piece. While the skates may go...your heart will still glide along on the memories they created.
Letting go is a very powerful thing to do.