Dr. Swaim & Daughter Abbey, taking a selfie on the Morning Star Chairlift, Bogus Basin
The Morning Star
Something about the way that chair whipped around in a clockwise fashion, always feeling a bit uneasy, off balance, fast becoming slow, like you were going to be knocked down, that was the charm of The Morning Star.
When my daughter was learning to ski, she loved the cat-tracks fed by the Morning Star.
After she graduated from the coach’s chair, we RODE the Morning star.
Again, and again, slow by slow. Slow until I was going nuts. 8 minutes can be very long.
My daughter has grown up, and can ski the whole mountain.
Her conversation has improved. She has a mind of her own. She is leaving for college this Fall. Spending time together is priceless. We both know it.
The Morning Star became our new ally.
We were sequestered for 8 minutes at a time. Disdain had become joy. The Morning Star was now working in our favor. Life, moving at warp speed, change coming faster than I can comprehend, and the wheels of the old Morning Star refused to keep pace with that change, refused to conform, and kept moving clockwise. Giving us 8 precious minutes. Again, and again. Slow by slow. Something reassuring was communicated in every turn of the wheel, something beautiful, something immutable. We became willing participants, cooperating with the pace of a bygone era.
And…
We grew a relationship 8 minutes at a time.
Morning Star, thank you for keeping it real. You will be missed.
Written By Ken Swaim
Posted by Mrs. Swaim:-)
Jun 07, 2019 at 3:13 PM
Awe, the heartfelt emotion of a dad who didn't lose one precious moment with his daughter. Swaim...you're one special human being, dude.
Jun 07, 2019 at 8:41 AM
Wow, it's out there now! Thanks, Carla.
Jun 07, 2019 at 4:07 PM
It is those special 8 minutes that will never be forgotten. She will always cherish the memory.
Jun 07, 2019 at 12:44 PM
That's great to hear because I know I do/will.Thanks Louise.