On the chairlift, I was talking with Noah about gratitude. Mornings like this don’t just brush past you—they soak right into your soul. I tried to put that feeling into words, but he just grinned at me, shook his head, and said I was a little loopy.
We skied out toward the far-right boundary of Thredbo, and I pulled up behind a rock for a quick pee break. Standing there, I found myself lost in thought about Lou—about how much she would have loved seeing Noah and Evie carve their paths, how fiercely proud she would be of their passion and their steady climb in the sports they adore.
As those thoughts filled me, I looked up and saw the rock I’d stopped behind, as if she had chosen it for the kids.
I skied back out to Noah, feeling warm and connected, and told him softly, “Your Mumma just gave us a sign, buddy.”
