CT's, Neck Braces, and National Awards...

Hello there sunshine and welcome to today's post!

The ski adventure tales continue! This was probably the lowest point of my ski season. But oddly enough it also resulted in more self-discovery and a very unexpected honour. It's funny how that goes sometimes...

Literally the day after my adventure up White Pass, myself, my mother, Sir Scott, and a group of other instructors and students from FIRE set off to the Canadian Association of Disabled Skiing (CADS) Festival. CADS Festival is a week-long national event, where members of adaptive snow programs from all over Canada come together to ski. Students are paired with two instructors at random, and lower level instructors are paired with higher levels for training. It's a win-win for everyone! It's an amazing week of fun, fellowship, and learning all at once.

CADS Festival travels around to different locations each year, but every two years it takes place at a resort just an hour and a half away from us, hence why we all got to go. Because I wear two hats, president of FIRE and a student, the week was a mixture of work and play... But mostly play... Sir Scott and I just so happened to be paired together for the week and were pretty excited to give my new seating a thorough testing. We both couldn't have been happier with the results, as I skied for five straight days with little to no discomfort. Well... For the most part... I'll get to that... This was another huge victory because I have never been able to ski for more than two hours per week. The glory of this accomplishment lasted two whole days... and then disaster struck... my head... on the snow...

I won't go into any detail about the events leading up to it, except to say that at the time I was skiing with a different instructor, and things didn't go as planned. Before I continue I want to say that this instructor is amazing at what he does. Accidents happen, especially in a sport like skiing! So without saying too much about the why, unfortunately I had a nasty fall, with the sit ski flipping upside down... I don't remember much of what happened before, or when the fall actually happened. One minute I was skiing, the next minute I was being picked up after being on my head. Scott was immediately at my side asking me if I was ok. The first thing I said was that I hit my head hard and I had a blazing headache. Admittedly I said this while trying to harness every bit of self-control I possessed not to burst into tears. The fact that the snow was icy and hard, and the impact of the fall on my head, was enough to scare me more than I care to admit. Scott being a former member of ski patrol came in handy, and he quickly checked me for a concussion. Nothing appeared to be wrong at that point except a headache though. After doing more tests, all of which I struggled to get through without crying, Scott took over and we gently headed down to the base.

A million thoughts flooded my mind in the time it took to get down. The pain in my head, neck, and left shoulder were increasing, which of course wasn't very encouraging. I thought the whole way down about the fact that this fall was very similar to the one that prevented me from skiing for two years. Would I have to go to the hospital? Did I break something? What about my neck? Had I undone all of the recovery progress I had made? Would I have to give up skiing for another two years? That consequence would be devastating, especially since I had only just started skiing again. The pain and these thoughts were becoming so overwhelming I just couldn't take it. Now this is the part that I'm still beating myself up over. Once we reached the bottom, and Scott knelt in front of me to see how I was, I just broke down and cried... I have to mention that Scott handled this situation amazingly well and I couldn't be more impressed.

This is where the self-discovery part came in. Even though I shed a few tears, and was pretty worried and scared, I managed to ignore it and remain my smiley self. My lifelong, somewhat debilitating fear of pain was starting to lose its grip on me! I was starting to feel like I had a breakthrough! Scott got me some ice, did his best to keep me distracted, checked for concussion symptoms again, and then said the dreaded words... "I'm taking you to the hospital."

Hospitals and I don't get along... at all... Ever since the horrors of bone surgery when I was four I've been terrified of them. The moment I heard those words, fear tightened its grip on me. For a moment anyway, but after that moment passed I went right back to joking and smiling. The half an hour drive there wasn't exactly pleasant pain wise, but I couldn't believe how well I was taking it. Just to give you an idea, usually pain and hospitals cause major emotional upheaval for me... But I made the whole trip with not the least bit of my emotions playing up, and even was able to enter the hospital with a smile. A HUGE breakthrough for me.

I had to wear a neck brace the whole time, went in for about 10 x-rays on my shoulder and a CT on my neck, but managed to pull through just fine. Mainly because my x-ray technician was extremely sexy... did I write that out loud!? No broken bones, just a small concussion and muscular swelling in my neck. Later on, I found out that I actually tore my rotator cuff in my left shoulder and sustained another whiplash injury, but in the grand scheme of things, it could have been much worse.

I shocked myself and a few others, including my mother, by requesting the next afternoon to get back in the sit ski and go for a run. But here's my logic on this, which really just stems from knowing myself all too well... If I didn't jump right back in and face my fears, I knew it would get harder and harder, to the point where I wouldn't want to ski again. So to prevent that from happening, I simply forced myself to "get back in the saddle" again. And I couldn't be more thankful that I did.

The evening after my accident was banquet night, which resulted in a very unexpected surprise, but most of all a great honour. During the evening, the CADS national board presented awards to outstanding members of clubs across Canada. A very special award was given to an instructor who will forever remain a legend in my eyes. Vince was the craziest, most adventurous, and unique man I have ever known. He was the most deserving of the award Volunteer of the Year. I hope you're flying high in heaven Vince! When I am able to get my own sit ski one day, I shall name it Vince. My emotions were running high after Vince's award, and honestly, I was hardly paying attention to the next award being presented. All of a sudden I heard my name being called! But for what? What did they say? Administrator of the Year!? If I didn't have my seatbelt on I'm sure I would've fallen over. I was in complete and utter shock. Had I really just won a national award? I was so overwhelmed, tears filled my eyes as I went up to receive the award. It took me a good long while before I was able to process what had just happened. I felt undeserving of such a great honour, but at the same time, I couldn't be more grateful and touched.

The week of CADS festival was full of ups and downs, but I've concluded that even the downs taught me something positive. I learned that I can have courage in the face of pain. Often I beat myself up because I feel like I'm not strong. The times when I'm not strong always distract me from seeing when I am. So in the end, I'm thankful that the fall helped me to realize who I am on the inside. I would never have felt it had it not been for that fall. As the saying goes, it doesn't matter how hard you fall, just as long as you get up and try again. And never, never stop trying. Never give up!

Beauty Thy Name Is White Pass...

Hello there sunshine and welcome to another post!

Today I am continuing the tales of my ski adventures by describing my favourite day of all. But first a little of the background story...

For three glorious weeks I had been completely enthralled with my return to the skiing world. Well... In spirit at least... My body was singing a different tune entirely. Something like this: ouch, ouch, ouch. At that point sit skiing was kind of a love-hate relationship. I loved the sit ski, but the sit ski didn't love me. I had been using a particular kind of sit ski, specifically the one I had used from the very beginning. It had never accommodated my needs well, and after those three weeks, it became apparent that my continuing to use it was not going to be an option. I was willing to fight through the pain to continue my beloved skiing, but my therapists, who are often much more logical than I am, foresaw more injuries, some of which could be permanent. I was again faced with the decision of having to give up skiing...

This is where Scott came in, who was to become my instructor later on. Scott had just agreed to take on equipment management for the program and had a meeting with me to discuss some improvement ideas. During said meeting, we got to talking about the problems I was having with the sit ski. I'm still not sure why he wanted to do this, and had he known what this involved I think he might have changed his mind, but for whatever reason, he took it upon himself to help make me comfortable in the sit ski. Poor man...

His first change of a great many was in the type of sit ski I use. I was switched to a sit ski called the HOC2 Glide. As the name suggests, this sit ski really does glide, and immediately offered positive improvements for my skiing. As I said before, Scott became my regular instructor, and after our first lesson assumed the name Sir Scott. Don't ask me how that name came to be... I couldn't tell you... But it stuck. I won't go into too much detail about the many changes and improvements Sir Scott made to my seating, but all I can say is that he worked incredibly hard and devoted many many hours to seeing that I was comfortable, and without him, I wouldn't be telling you these stories.

By March 18th it seemed that my seating was finally starting to work! Scott and I went on a "field trip" as I like to call it by heading up to the hill to put the seating to the test. We went for a few practise runs, immediately overjoyed by the success of the seating. Ever since I started skiing I had never been able to balance the sit ski on my own. Because of my spine, I constantly lean to the left, which of course causes the ski to fall over. But thanks to Scott's adjustments, I was sitting in the centre of the ski, and could, therefore, balance on my own!!! If I had been given just that small victory that day it would've been enough. But it got even better...

"Let's go up White Pass." Said Sir Scott.
White Pass? But that's almost to the top of the mountain! I've only skied lower mountain and easy runs. White Pass is for real skiers! I don't belong UP THERE! Remember when I talked about fear being the driving force to discovery? This was one of those moments which proved that theory for me. As we loaded the White Pass chair a million not so encouraging thoughts were going through my mind. Mainly... WHAT THE HELL AM I DOING??? But nothing, absolutely nothing, could have prepared me for the feelings that flooded my heart and soul as we reached the top. I now know why the Bible talks about God's presence being at the top of the mountains. Truly this is where heaven feels closer, and my peace is found. And when I dream of heaven, I think it ought to look something like the top of White Pass. Impossible? Impossible for me to be up there said my mind? Impossible no longer! I was hit with the ultimate feeling of freedom all at once. Tears of pure joy filled my eyes... Literally... I fogged my goggles... But it didn't matter. White Pass is forever burned into my mind as being the place where impossible is two letters too long. I'm not sure if I could ever explain just how much the White Pass experience touched me, except to say that it completely opened my eyes to what is possible and gave me a new attitude towards myself as a skier. For the first time ever I felt like a real skier, which is more important than I'll ever be able to convey.

As Scott and I descended the mountain, literally the last ones to leave at the end of the day, we both couldn't help yelling "THAT WAS AMAZING!!!", etc, etc, followed by "wow" over and over again. We had conquered so many barriers that day, both physically and emotionally. I balanced in the sit ski for the first time, we went up White Pass, and conquered our very first black run! The day was a victory through and through, and two things will forever be in my mind as a result. First, how thankful I am to Sir Scott, not only for all his efforts in making me comfortable enough to continue skiing, but also for making me see that I can reach for new heights. Second, for being able to see the beauty that is White Pass, which will forever hold a special place in my heart and in my dreams. I am now convinced that my heart belongs at the top of the mountains...

The Return of Mighty Mouse!

Hello there sunshine and welcome to today's post!

Now originally I started out with a train of thought, which was interrupted in the last few posts, but now I shall resume. What was I talking about again? Oh yes, I remember... Ski adventuring!!! 

I had mentioned in a previous post all about my work with FIRE Adaptive, but this season I went on a skiing journey of my own, and one that was quite unexpected. Two years ago I sustained a whiplash injury, due to some skiing shenanigans... Unfortunately, the injury was undetected for many months before I decided to get help, and by that time it had worsened to the point where I was in therapy twice a week for almost two years. What started as a whiplash injury ended up spreading to my shoulder, causing a nerve to be pinched, which was later diagnosed as thoracic outlet syndrome and carpal tunnel. During this time my therapists asked me not to go skiing in order to allow full recovery. 

Before the season began this year, my therapists deemed me fully recovered, which meant I could start skiing again. I don't care to admit to this, but at that point I had completely forgotten the joy that skiing brought me, and....uh... had no desire to return. In fact, I resolutely made the decision that I would not return to skiing this season. In my mind, the recovery period from an injury was too long, and the risk of hurting myself again was too great, so therefore it wasn't worth it. But it would seem that my resolution was not meant to be... 

The first day of FIRE Adaptive had arrived, and I was faced with a problem that I've never had before. We had too many instructors and not enough students! Well, that wouldn't do... After all, most of these instructors were just newly trained and EXTREMELY enthusiastic to start teaching. There was room for one more student... I called around to our absent students making sure that their plans hadn't changed. No luck! What could I do? The solution became apparent. I would simply fill the space for that one lesson. But I'd only go once and that would be it! Again, that wasn't meant to be. 

As soon as I heard the click of the last strap being buckled, was whisked away by the chairlift and found myself at the top of those familiar slopes again, I knew my previous resolution was on shaky ground. Almost like floodgates being opened, the feeling of joy, freedom, and everything indescribable filled my very soul. Attempting to convey the feelings that overwhelm my heart while skiing may be an impossible task, but all I can say is that I feel so light, it wouldn't surprise me if I took off right there and started to fly! No longer am I "Grace in the wheelchair", who has to sit on the sidelines watching everyone else enjoy sports activities. To be completely honest, I can even forget that I have a disability when I'm zipping down the mountainside. I am fully aware that without the assistance of my instructor I wouldn't be skiing at all... But at the same time, my instructor and I become one somehow (well... not exactly somehow... we work on synchronization of course), and we just ski. It's as simple as that. Skiing brings more joy to me than any other earthly thing because of freedom! To not feel heavy and restricted and held back, but rather free not only to conquer mountains but to just be me. Being able to just be Grace, without having my wheelchair accompany me with all its labels and preconceived notions, is all the freedom I could ask for.

In spite of all those wonderful feelings, skiing can sometimes terrify me so much I'm sure it would make people wonder why I continue doing it... Am I afraid when I go skiing? Sometimes. But here's the thing. Normally if I'm afraid of something, my first reaction is to run from it. What I've learned from skiing is that fear can be the driving force to discovering what's on the inside. Fear has the opposite effect on me while skiing. Instead of running away, I tackle it head on because I know that I'm going to learn something about myself that I didn't know was there, courage being one of them. Seeing fear in that light has helped me to conquer many many challenges, both on the hill and off, and I couldn't be more grateful.

In joy, in freedom, in fear, in victory I descended the mountain on that first day. As you can probably guess, I did NOT stand firm in my resolution not to ski that winter... I went on to have some incredible adventures. Want to hear about them? Come back soon for more!

44 Adventures in 20 Years of Life!

Hello there sunshine, which is very appropriate for the beautiful weather we've had of late, and welcome to today's post! I know I haven't posted in a while... Unfortunately life has been a little tougher for me these past few weeks. BUT! I'd like to take the time to document an important time in my life!

I turned the big 20 last week! That's right, I have officially left my teen years behind me... I DID IT!!! I SURVIVED!!! Although here's the thought I had... I will never be 19 again... That's kind of scary when I really dwell on it... Anyways! 

I have to take a moment to say how much I appreciated the lovely comments and well wishes I had from my Facebook friends throughout the day! It really made me feel special! And I mean the real special... Not thpecial.... Thank you so much everyone! 

My birthday was a series of ups and downs, starting with a down. I wasn't home for my birthday, I was in the city casting and having a back brace made. So I spent the morning being stretched and then stuck in a shell of plaster... I've been going through a bit of a time with my back of late. I won't go into too much detail, other than to say that it's kind of like fighting against time itself, or racing against nature. Ever since I refused my spinal surgery at age 14, I've known that it was only a matter of time before I started to deteriorate. I don't ever regret my decision, because the thought of losing 90% of my already little mobility was never an option, but sometimes it can be difficult. Difficult to ignore the thoughts that try to sneak up and take control of my mind. I think the hardest thing was finding out during my casting that they have new treatments for Scoliosis. New treatments that are successful, but unavailable to me because my adolescent years have passed. I haven't had a breakdown over my spine for a long long while, but because of having pain everyday whether awake or asleep, I did have an "episode" for a day. I'm only sharing this so that other people struggling with something similar know that they aren't alone. And I've always tried to be honest in my posts. I did at one point feel like I was losing hope, which is a terrible thing to go through. Because my case is pretty unique, it's easy to think that I'm all alone. So how do I get through it? Simply by these two verses that I cling to as if my life depended on it, because it kind of does. "Trust in the Lord with all your heart, and lean not on your own understanding. In all your ways acknowledge Him, and He will make the crooked ways straight." AND "But this I call to mind, therefore I have hope. Through the Lord's mercy I am not consumed. Because His compassions fail not, they are new every morning. Great is His faithfulness." I wake up every morning, and even with the pain trying to hold onto me, I choose not to let go of my joy. Attitude is a choice, and I do everything I can to make the right decision, but only by the grace and mercy bestowed on me by the Lord. Casting a back brace on my birthday could've darkened my spirits, but I chose not to let that happen. I was my normal self, had my orthotist laughing the entire appointment, and left there as if the sun was shining through my pores. 

The rest of my day was full of shenanigans in the mall doing most of my favourite things. I got an Earl Grey tea, which I can't live without, got some much needed summer clothes, aaand... WENT TO CHAPTERS!!! Yes, I was THAT excited about it, and admit to being a complete nerd... In fact, a conversation with my mother that afternoon went something like this; 

Mom: So what do you want to do this afternoon?

Me: Probably spend a couple hours in Chapters! 

Mom: A couple hours!?

Me: Hey! You are SO lucky you have an abnormal daughter, who would rather spend hours in a bookstore than in a bar! 

Mom:... Touché... 

You get the idea... We finished the evening having dinner and delicious Gelato dessert with family members in the city. Unfortunately I had a little bit of food poisoning, and therefore hardly touched my dinner, but as the French have it... C'est la vie! All in all it was a wonderful day, and 20 will be a wonderful year! 

My sister challenged me on my birthday to make a list of all the adventures I've had in my lifetime, and you know what happens when I'm challenged! Bring it on! The following shows my journey of adventures, the big and the small, the good and the bad, in my 20 years thus far. Loved going back through memory lane, and I praise God for all the rich blessings He has given me. Life is amazing!

44 Adventures in 20 Years:

1. Flew in a helicopter (One day old) 

2. Tried serial casting on feet (unsuccessful) 

3. Was cut on both feet when removing cast (5 inch scars) 

4. Went to New York (Age four) 

5. Had picture taken in front of the Twin Towers (2000) 

6. Had major intensive bone surgery on left leg (Age four) 

7. Received first wheelchair (and was terrified to use it at first... ) 

8. Was in a car crash on the way to get casts removed

9. Started kindergarten at Max Turyk 

10. Was featured on the Variety Club’s Show of Hearts (Age four) 

11. Was featured on the Fifth Estate (Age seven) 

12. Had surgery to remove metal plate and screws from left leg (Age eight)

13. Started voice lessons 

14. Started piano lessons (Age nine) 

15. Was featured on the Fifth Estate again… (Age nine) 

16. Joined SET-BC (Special Education Technology) 

17. Met Kate Gibbs (Age ten)

18. Illustrated children’s book called “A Hare Raising Adventure” 

19. Went to Texas for first Arthrogryposis convention (Age 11) 

20. Reported on wheelchair basketball for the Winter Games in Kimberley (Age 12) 

21. Started homeschooling with Heritage Christian Online School (Age 13) 

22. Spokesperson for CanAssist at the Senate’s National Day of the Child in Ottawa (Age 14) 

23. Interviewed Paralympic archer Kevin Evans

24. Was featured on the cover of Legacy Now magazine 

25. Interviewed Josh Dueck (Age 14)

26. Interviewed Greg Westlake and Jean Labonté from the Canadian Sledge Hockey team

27. Torchbearer in Vancouver for the Paralympics (Age 14) 

28. Reported on sledge hockey at the Paralympics 

29. Interviewed goalie for Canadian Sledge Hockey Team, Paul Rosen 

30. Freelance journalist for the Fernie Free Press

31. Started “Disabled and Living in the Real World” blog and video blog (Age 15) 

32. Sit skied for the first time at Kimberley Alpine Resort (Age 15) 

33. Started working on “sit ski society” (Age 15) 

34. Became the president of FIRE: Fernie Inspire the Race to Empower (Age 16) 

35. FIRE Adaptive Snow Program officially opened (2013) 

36. Stopped sit skiing due to whiplash (Age 17) 

37. Graduated with honours from Heritage Christian Online School (Age 18) 

38. Received the City of Fernie’s Youth Achievement Award 

39. Received BC Adaptive Snowsports “Club Board Member of the Year”

40. Started sit skiing again (Age 19) 

41. Created Daughter of Light Photography 

42. Photography featured on the front page of CBT’s Scratch Magazine 

43. Received the Canadian Association for Disabled Skiing “Administrator of the Year” award 

44. Skied Whistler Blackcomb and conquered The Saddle baby!!! 

More adventures coming soon… (Age 20)

Reflection

Sometimes I think about what it would be like to have a perfect life. If everything went as planned. If it was all just sunshine and roses with no trouble in it at all. I have to ask myself one question then. Would I want that kind of life? My first instinct would be to say yes. But when I stop to really think about it, the truth becomes clear. If everything was perfect, there would be nothing to make me grow. Nothing to push me, pull me, and shape me into who I am supposed to be. If life didn't slap me on the face every once in a while, I might not take the time to stop and look around. Sometimes when I'm knocked flat on my back, as painful as that might be, it reminds me to slow down and look at the stars. The fact is, I've learned more from the difficult moments in life than I ever would have from the positive. Rain is never bad, because it causes things to grow. Which brings me to something important.

I have been asked a few times that if I could change my life, restart and have something completely different, would I take that opportunity? I've thought long and hard, and I liken it to this. Could I possibly look at the world, with all its splendour and majesty, and then confidently and without hesitation tell God that it's not good enough? Could I possibly ask Him to change what He has created? How then could I look at myself, a being designed and brought about by God, and tell Him that it's not good enough? How could I stoop so low as to even think such a thing? It's unimaginable! In answer to the question, would I change myself if I could, I would say unequivocally and without a doubt, no!

My life may not be the easiest that is for sure. Every second of my day I face challenges, sometimes in just finding enough energy to move my arms. Do I sometimes dream about what it'd be like if I had even just a little more mobility in my arms and legs? I wouldn't be human if I didn't. You know what I'd really like to do, and this might seem incredibly stupid to you, but nevertheless... I'd like to lift my hand in the air, without it feeling heavy and restricted, and just feel the wind carelessly caress my fingers. That's what freedom would be for me. But I choose not to dwell on that, because every attitude comes with a choice. I am Grace. I have restrictions, but thankfully they don't stop me from appreciating how sweet life can be. I am thankful for every breath that I take. I am thankful for every sight that I see. Everyday I go for a walk and become absolutely enraptured by the beauty in this world. But it's the little things that I really appreciate. The sound of the wind rustling through the trees. The sweet freshness of the air that fills my lungs. The fact that I am surrounded by majestic mountains, which are medicine to my soul in one season, and an adventurous playground in the next. I can laugh, I can smile, and I can take part in many things that bring joy to my heart. By the grace of God all this I can experience, and I am ever so grateful.

If I could change anything about myself, it would be to my character. I wish I could love when I need to love. Speak when I need to speak. Be silent when I need to be silent. Hope when I need to hope. Be strong when I need to be strong. Give thanks when I need to give thanks. So many times I miss the mark. So many times I lose track of what really matters. So many times I fall into the same traps. I am an imperfect being and that won't change. But everyday offers the chance to learn, the chance to grow, and the chance to make a difference in my own small way. I pray that I never fail to recognize those chances when they present themselves.

To be honest, I don't even know why I'm writing this... Sometimes these things just come to me, usually while I'm walking. I will say this. The next time you feel like complaining, might I gently remind you that it takes more effort to have a negative attitude than a positive one. If you really stop and consider what you do have, I promise you it would greatly outweigh what you don't. And I'm not talking about having money, fancy cars, and a mansion in the sky. I'm talking about every breath you take. I'm talking about eyes that see. I'm talking about ears that hear. I'm talking about every move you make. I'm talking about everything that is taken for granted. If you really wanted to, you would end up saying "how blessed I am to be alive". Nothing is more precious than this life, but you have to choose to see it. Make that choice friends. It's the best one you'll ever make. 

This Girl is on FIRE!

Hello there sunshine! Welcome to today’s post! 

I’d like to talk about the greatest adventure I’ve ever been privileged enough to have. Working on FIRE has been a journey for me, both physically and mentally. Looking back on it now, it all kind of seems unreal. To be honest, I can’t even believe that I’m the same person I was when this crazy idea to start a sit ski program popped into my head. I’ve discovered a lot about myself throughout this process, grew more than I thought possible, and now I can honestly say that I wouldn’t be the person I am today without FIRE. 

I think the process of discovery began the first time I went skiing. I still don’t really know what made me want to go skiing actually… None of my family are skiers, and at the time I had a strong dislike for anything that had to do with winter. I think it had something to do with the news I received on my spine. I felt the need to do something different. Something that could make me forget my hardships for a while. Something to even make me forget I was disabled. I didn’t think skiing could do all that though… I was happy to be wrong in this case! I came away from my first ski adventure with an indescribable joy. Up there, on top of a mountain, the world seems tiny in comparison. I felt like I could do anything. I felt so free, almost as if I could fly. And I surprised myself through the experience. Things that would usually scare me senseless I ended up being thrilled with. I think this was the first step to discovering something within myself that I didn't know was there. I remember coming home from Kimberley, sitting down at my table, and playing everything over and over again in my mind. And that's when it happened. That little idea popped in my head, which in retrospect was the craziest idea I've ever had to date. This little voice inside me said "I'm going to start a sit ski program in Fernie". It sounded so sure, so certain, so unmovable... Like a mountain... It truly was a mountain, and from where I was sitting at the bottom, it seemed monumental, and slightly impossible. The thing is, when something appears to be impossible, my mind ends up saying "challenge accepted"... Sometimes without my consent... With that, I took out a pencil and paper, said a quick prayer, and got to work. 

I found it amusing going through my old blog posts and reading about my journey of creating FIRE. My 15 and 16 year old self was very ambitious, very positive, and at times a wee bit dramatic. I don't think it even crossed my mind that there weren't many teens my age striving to tackle the same challenges as I was. In my mind, this program that I dreamed of was always going to happen, come hell or high water. Nothing is impossible for a driven youth with vision. My previous posts show me working through whatever challenge presented itself, whether it was choosing a name for the program (can you believe I was actually considering FARDS: Fernie Alpine Resort Disabled Skiers!? What was wrong with me!?), filling out all the paperwork to become a society (which I hated with a passion apparently...), or raising funds for our very first sit skis. I'll never forget the very first meeting we had as an official society. Having never been the president of anything before, I was completely a blank slate, and ended up calling the meeting to order by triumphantly declaring, "I command this meeting to be opened... Yay!". At the time I couldn't figure out why the other members were laughing so hard, but now I find it just as hilarious as they did. I remember saying in one of my posts that I felt intimidated by all the adults on my board, but I had unending enthusiasm to bring to the table, and that counts for something! Those moments began to gradually shape me, and the knowledge I have gained from them will stay with me forever. 

My favourite post by far is when I describe the very first day of FIRE, on January 20th 2013. I felt proud, excited, relieved, optimistic, and a little stunned all at once. I said that we were finally free to ski, and that the program would be the key to many more possibilities. You can tell that I truly loved the program, and I hope that still shows today. The first day of the program was a victory. It was the climax of everything we had been working towards. It was the spark, which ignited the flame. 

What the program is today truly amazes me. In the four years we've been in operation, the program has doubled in size, and continues to show signs of growth everyday. We started with two sit skis, we now have four. We had five students, today we have twelve. Nine instructors multiplied to twenty two! Statistically the growth we've been through has been unbelievable! I attribute the success of the program mostly to prayer. Whenever I was stressed about something, my Mother would always say, "Grace, have you prayed about that?" or "Grace, you need to let go and let God take care of that.". It was a hard lesson for me to learn, but God's hand on the program and its development has been very obvious to me as the years go by. Funnily enough, this season I prayed (half jokingly) that God would make it snow every weekend so we'd have better conditions at the end of our year. I'm being completely serious when I say that it snowed almost every weekend like clockwork... Thank God! 

I'm not sure if I'll be able to put into words just how much FIRE has meant to me throughout the years. I've been through hardships, frustration, stress, and times when I wondered why on earth I decided to take this on. I still feel that way sometimes actually... But then I go up to the hill every Sunday, sometimes to ski and sometimes just to make sure everyone gets off safely, and all it takes is for me to see the smiles on everyone's faces... Instantly, the whole ordeal of getting FIRE started becomes worth it. The positive atmosphere during lesson times is so real, it's almost tangible. The most rewarding part of my job is watching the lives of our team being changed. I couldn't be more thankful for what FIRE has done in my life as well. The list of skills that I gained through this experience are unending, but most importantly is what FIRE has done for my character. I've gain confidence and strength, two things that I never thought I'd have. I've learned what's important in life and how to fight for it. I could go on and on explaining what FIRE has done for me, but I'd say this post is long enough as it is... 

Truly, the best thing about FIRE, in my opinion at least, is this... It wasn't one single person who made FIRE possible. It was a lot of people with the same flame on the inside, who got together, and made a difference. There was a need, and everyone pulled together to fill it. It's truly amazing what can happen when we work together. I want to thank each and every person who helped to make FIRE what it is today. The flame has been kindled, and will continue to burn for many more years to come. 

Stay tuned for more posts on my ski adventures, coming soon... :) 

An Ode to My Mother

Hello there Sunshine! Welcome to today's post, and Happy Mother's Day!

I am going to take a break from my reminiscences of the past year to talk about someone very special. Without this certain someone I would not be the person I am today. This is an "ode", or really just a thank you, to my Mother.

You see, when you're the mother of a child with a disability, life is very different compared to most. I don't think most people realize just how different it is. For starters, to expect that at any moment the doctors will let you hold your new baby girl, only to discover that she needs to be flown off to another hospital for immediate medical attention. To make the long trip by ambulance, wondering what was wrong with your little girl. To arrive at the hospital, only to see that your baby is hooked up to all these tubes and wires, with a medical team buzzing around her. To be told that she wouldn't survive past three weeks. To be asked if you wanted to just walk away while you still had the chance. To discover that your daughter had a condition that would challenge her the rest of her days. To wonder what her life would be like, and wonder what yours would be like too. This was only the beginning for my Mother.

She had to think of ways to explain why I couldn't do certain things, why I looked the way I did, why other kids were different from me. She had to wipe my tears when I was made fun of, or when I felt left out because I couldn't do something, or when I wondered why I was created this way. She was there to help me through the times when I was afraid. Afraid of the doctors, afraid of the tests, afraid of the scans, afraid of the word surgery. She had to make the painful decision of accepting a surgery that would allow me to sit in a wheelchair. Enduring those terrible times after surgery, when I screamed for three days straight. Those sleepless nights back at home because of the casts. The feeling of relief when they were removed, only to be reminded of the experience again because of the scars left on my body. And just when she thought it was over, the doctors suggested more surgeries, which left her asking "is it worth putting her through that?".

She was the one to encourage me not to be a victim. She taught me never to feel sorry for myself, to always look on the positive side, and to try new things. She was there for my victories, both large and small, like playing the piano, or teaching myself to write with a pencil. She accompanied me on many adventures, such as the Paralympics, and my trip to Ottawa to speak to the Senate. She was the first to tell me I could do something, even when I didn't think so at the time. When I'd do something that I thought was daring (but admittedly stupid), like launching my wheelchair off jumps at the skateboard park, or pulling my cousin behind me on rollerblades, she would be there shaking her head or giving me what I like to call the "death glare".

She continually fought for my rights to equality, especially through my high school years. The stress she went through to make sure I was treated the way I should was unimaginable. She spent hours on the phone, writing letters, and having meetings. She had to deal with the frustration and heart-ache of seeing me come home everyday in tears. She had to make the decision to pull me out of high school. In the many hours that I spent alone because of my online school studies, she would always make sure she spent time with me, whether in walking, reading, or just talking. When I wondered why I couldn't make friends, she'd be there to soothe me, or tell me that Jesus was my friend.

In my teen years, she dealt with both the normal and the not so normal. When I went through the stages of being insecure because of acne, she was the one to research and try every product that offered a solution. When I would just randomly burst into tears because I was PMSing, she would be there to listen to my ridiculous reasons why, and hug me while suppressing her laughter. "He said I love you Gracie in that movie Mom! WHEN WILL SOMEONE SAY THAT TO ME!!!???"
She endures my morning grumps... The least said about that the better... When my life took a surprising and painful turn in discovering the true condition of my spine, hearing what the surgery would help with and what it would take away, and enduring the knowledge of what would happen if I refused, she was there. She supported my decision to refuse the surgery, and the hardships I've been through because of it.

When I said I wanted to start my own sit ski society... Well, if she thought it was a bad idea, she never let on... She celebrated with me when plans fell in place, and dealt with my outbursts of tears when something didn't work out. When I would ask her why I was trying to do this, or when I declared I was in WAY over my head, she would always remind me to trust in God. Today she watches myself and the other students in Fernie Adaptive ski our beautiful mountains, and she says because of that she is very proud. I have dragged her with me for many of my crazy ideas, and she has supported my every whim.

To conclude... For your strength. For your perseverance. For your hope. For your faith. For your encouragement. For your scolding. For your sacrifice. For your endurance. For your friendship. For your guidance. Your teaching, your smiles, and even your death glare. For your love, and for your prayers that helped me through my hardships. For everything that I am and everything I will be. And for the many other fors... Thank you Mom!