Personal Narrative-The Joy Of Skiing

I can see the sun glistening off the snow covering the treetops as I glide down the mountain. Suddenly I feel a lot of snow sprayed on me as my dad speeds past in his usual perfect formation, as if he’s a slalom skier about to pass the finish line. He goes around a bend, following the curve of the trail, and skis out of sight. When I finally catch up to him I am shocked at what I see. My dad is getting up from a fall – he never falls – and both his skis and poles are scattered around the trail. In all his years of skiing, as far as I know, my dad has never been injured despite some careless falls. As I ski down to my dad I pick up his matching black skis and poles. I get closer to him and see a look in his eyes that worries me. I hide my concern and calmly ask, “Are you okay?”
“Where are Lauren and Sami?” “The terrain park,” I respond while nervously playing with my nails. “Dad, you fell earlier and I think you hit your head. You keep asking me the same questions even after I answer you. Let’s ski down to the bottom of the mountain and find someone to check you out just to make sure you are okay.” He reluctantly agrees and we quickly ski down to the base lodge. My dad has no problem getting down the rest of the mountain, taking off his skis, and putting them on the ski rack. It seems almost like he wants to prove to me, and to himself, that he really is okay. I see someone who works at the mountain and walk over to her.

“Hi, my dad fell and hit his head and I’m just wondering if you could get someone to take a look at him. He seems to be a bit confused to me and I want to make sure nothing really bad happened.”

“Sure thing. Why don’t you get him to sit down on that bench while I radio someone over.” The woman keeps looking back at my dad with a worried look on her face but she quickly springs into action to get a medic over to check him