Snow, Speed, Sledding, and the Memories That Stay With Us
Winter has a way of pulling us back into childhood. For individuals in Maryland and DC, this reflection celebrates the thrill of sledding, the joy of shared moments, and the timeless magic of snow‑covered hills.
“Rosebud.” Does that ring a bell? If you are as old as I am, you will recognize it as the last line of the movie Citizen Kane, a 1941 classic starring Orson Welles. The sled was a childhood memory.
Today is a day for sledding and creating memories. The snow, topped with ice, has not been cleared from the streets in our neighborhood and probably will not be cleared for another day. That means the hill beside our house is loaded with kids and sleds. Some of those sleds hit 30 mph before slowing to a stop at the bottom of a very long hill.
I am tempted to try it myself. However, the safer bet is to enjoy it from the sunroom window, which acts as a box seat to the show. Kids of all ages and sleds of all types are sailing down the hill. The “Rosebud” type of sled, with a wooden top and runners, is nowhere to be seen. The plastic dish seems to be the favorite—just a round piece of plastic with a slight curve like a bowl. Then there is the toboggan, with its curled front and long tail, that can hold two or three at a time. So far, no one has tried the plastic bag, but I bet someone is thinking about it.
The Olympics are being advertised on television, and that really fast sled that takes a windy path and looks truly dangerous would be at home on this hill.
My favorite memory of sledding comes not from my childhood but from my daughters. Snow started falling shortly after her bedtime and came down in torrents. By 4 a.m., at least three feet of it covered the ground and the roads. It was wet, slick snow—perfect for sledding. So, of course, we woke her up, bundled all of us up, and headed for the hill in the neighborhood. At first, we had the place to ourselves and made these gorgeous tracks as we sped down the hill. The climb back up was not easy, but worth it every time. Then, at 5 a.m., other families had caught on, and the hill filled with squeals, laughter, and screams as children and parents sped down.
I can appreciate why people love to ski. First, there is the view from the ski lift as you climb up the mountain. Part of you is amazed at how far you can see and how beautifully the hills are bathed in white. Part of you hopes they have maintained these cables year after year. When you reach the top and face the downhill, you tend to catch your breath. A sense of freedom takes over as the cold air enters your lungs. Swinging back and forth down the hill to slow your progression ever so slightly helps keep you on your skis. The best part, however, is the hot chocolate waiting by the fire at the lodge.
Want to explore more about nostalgia, winter rituals, and emotional well‑being? Visit Psychology Today’s reflections on memory and emotion and Greater Good’s research on shared joy and connection.
If this reflection stirs warm memories or inspires you to reconnect with joy, therapy can help. Learn more about individual therapy in Maryland and DC or explore therapeutic approaches that support resilience, grounding, and emotional well‑being.
By Dr. Gloria K Vanderhorst
