I chose Killington

I went home last week. For the first time in almost a decade. Well, not exactly home because my mom sold my childhood house in New York almost a decade ago, but back to my family. My dad’s family. The kind of family where the first cousins were all so close growing up that all the second cousins still get together on a regular basis and the third cousins are now growing up together. They all still live close to each other or constantly travel to see each other.

They are committed to each other. It was beautiful to see, really, how close they all were. How they all knew everything about each other, had all kinds of private jokes and took photo after photo of all of them together. It was stunning to see how many cousins gathered for a wedding, with pure excitement and filled with joy. My family was truly impressive to behold.

From the outside. Because that’s where I was.

While they continued to have all these meetups and get togethers, I have not seen my family. There were little ones I hadn’t met and didn’t know their names. Cousins I hadn’t seen since the last wedding…

Having made the decision to move to Killington over two decades ago, I left my family behind. I chose skiing over family holidays and weddings and birthdays and … everything. That’s the harsh reality of becoming a ski bum that no one tells you: that for skiing you will give up everything and everyone. For the magic of powder turns, you will make yourself forget that you have cousins.

Honestly, I had almost forgotten I had a family until social media came around. It was there that I was able to learn about new cousins and exciting milestones. So much was happening to them and I was missing it … but nothing ever seemed as important as making sure that all the powder was tracked up and by me.

I was selfish. Seriously selfish. Everything became subservient to skiing 200 days a year. I was addicted, the same as any addict would be, not caring for anything or anyone except the skis on my feet and then training all summer to be ready for the next winter. A complete cycle of selfishness.

And then Covid happened. Like detox, Killington being closed for almost eight months left me bereft and without my drug. I didn’t know what to do, but over time I realized that I could enjoy skiing without being overwhelmed by it. I began to find balance. I started focusing more on my work and celebrating the moments that I was outside. I found joy in one run and stopped shaking when we weren’t at the mountain by a certain time every day. I started to miss days of skiing — on purpose — when I didn’t feel well or just didn’t feel like going. I started to find balance.

And I started noticing things. Like how I had severed the relationship with my dad’s family. How I knew nothing about them.

That showed at my baby cousin’s wedding this past weekend. I was an outsider, a stranger looking in on something beautiful that I was no longer a part of. I mean, I had been the older cousin of a large group of younger cousins, so I could always blame that but … I chose Killington a long time ago while they chose each other.

So although it was heart wrenching to watch my family from the outside, I reminded myself that I chose to leave. That I chose to walk away from the closeness and safety of our beautiful family. I chose adventure, mountains and a life that I built entirely on my own. Okay, with the bf by my side. Although I felt I had to sacrifice my family to do it, this new life was so important that it was a decision I was willing to make.

Do I regret moving to Killington and building my entire life around skiing and the mountains? Absolutely not. This mountain carries my soul. Do I wish that I could have done so without severing my relationship with my family? Absolutely. I would have loved to be Cousin Meri, to be part of the inner cousin circle and see those little cousins grow up. But I was a lot dumber 25 years ago and didn’t know any better. I could not see how to be a ski bum while maintaining that link with the real world. And so I did the only thing I thought I could in the moment: I chose Killington.

Merisa Sherman is a long time Killington resident, town lister and member of the Development Review Board, a local broker and Coach Pom Pom. She can be reached at Merisa.Sherman@SothebysRealty.com.