When my family moved to MA, I started skiing when I was 6 (my brother was 9). My father had learned to ski in college and decided if we lived in MA, we (my brother and I) were going to learn to ski. We didn't really ski too much the first couple years, but at about 10 I was out skiing my father and at about 12, I was restricted to my local little hill because my father would no longer ski with me because he couldn't keep up, however, he at least made sure I always had access to the hill. At that point my brother didn't ski very much any more, and I became obsessed.
About 5 years ago, my brother and I started vacationing out west every year because we never did as kids, and my brother got hooked again and has become my best student. I can honestly say his skiing has gone up leaps and bounds in the past couple years.
About 2 years ago, we convinced my father to get back on the horse, but his ego would not let him acknowledge his own ago and years away from skiing (as well as changes in technique and technology). Needless to say he didn't last very long on the slopes, and was quite disappointed with his performance, but for my brother and I, it was more important that we were back on the snow with my father for the first time in about 10-12 years.