Did Della ever fall off her bike?
Yes. Lots of times. In fact, for a while there it was the only way she knew how to stop and get off. But she learned.
Fortified recently with the basic fact that his cousin struggled to learn to ride a bike, my nephew Adam was ready to give bicycling a try. My parents showed him how to coast, and they stood by to keep him from rolling into the road and to encourage him to keep trying. The Stride-Rites faithfully took the scrapes for him as he dragged his toes to keep the speed down.
For hours. For days.
Then, on Wednesday, I had the good fortune of stopping by to visit with my parents and my nephew. I got to be part of Team Go, Adam, Go! and raced alongside him on foot to provide some variety to the routine.
Eventually the little guy found the courage to put his feet on the pedals--and to pedal backwards as I wheeled him up the drive. What a kidder. So I told him to try it in the other direction, and he did. The Hunchbacked Aunt of Woodbury held the bike and walked alongside him as he cycled along.
And then--Oh, yes!--Adam did it himself. Without a word of warning, I took my hands off the bike and walked alongside him, feeling for a few moments like one of those wire cages that keep precious tomatoes from breaking their branches and landing on the ground.
The solo trip didn't last long; he didn't go far. But he did it, and I was blessed to be there. Away went the bike as I whooped and hollered. Poor Adam had enough of being stared at and feted by three adoring adults. No need to tempt fate on Wednesday; the bike would be there Thursday. And so would Grandma and Grandpa. Adam will go far.
To think I had been planning to stay in and clean things and move laundry and pull weeds and commit all manner of responsible acts. To think I was going to stay home and do the work that was waiting for me on my trusty computer. To think a thousand and one responsibilities had my name written all over them on Wednesday morning. Yet, I walked away for a few hours to be with three precious people.
Sometimes it's a blessing to be impulsive and to choose on the spur of the moment to do nothing at all with the people you love most.
Wheels turn; life moves on; I'm emnjoying the ride.
Click here for Blog Your Blessings
Yes. Lots of times. In fact, for a while there it was the only way she knew how to stop and get off. But she learned.
Fortified recently with the basic fact that his cousin struggled to learn to ride a bike, my nephew Adam was ready to give bicycling a try. My parents showed him how to coast, and they stood by to keep him from rolling into the road and to encourage him to keep trying. The Stride-Rites faithfully took the scrapes for him as he dragged his toes to keep the speed down.
For hours. For days.
Then, on Wednesday, I had the good fortune of stopping by to visit with my parents and my nephew. I got to be part of Team Go, Adam, Go! and raced alongside him on foot to provide some variety to the routine.
Eventually the little guy found the courage to put his feet on the pedals--and to pedal backwards as I wheeled him up the drive. What a kidder. So I told him to try it in the other direction, and he did. The Hunchbacked Aunt of Woodbury held the bike and walked alongside him as he cycled along.
And then--Oh, yes!--Adam did it himself. Without a word of warning, I took my hands off the bike and walked alongside him, feeling for a few moments like one of those wire cages that keep precious tomatoes from breaking their branches and landing on the ground.
The solo trip didn't last long; he didn't go far. But he did it, and I was blessed to be there. Away went the bike as I whooped and hollered. Poor Adam had enough of being stared at and feted by three adoring adults. No need to tempt fate on Wednesday; the bike would be there Thursday. And so would Grandma and Grandpa. Adam will go far.
To think I had been planning to stay in and clean things and move laundry and pull weeds and commit all manner of responsible acts. To think I was going to stay home and do the work that was waiting for me on my trusty computer. To think a thousand and one responsibilities had my name written all over them on Wednesday morning. Yet, I walked away for a few hours to be with three precious people.
Sometimes it's a blessing to be impulsive and to choose on the spur of the moment to do nothing at all with the people you love most.
Wheels turn; life moves on; I'm emnjoying the ride.
Click here for Blog Your Blessings
20 Comments
I had forgotten Stride-Rites! This was beautifully written -- I was there, enjoying the moment.
ReplyDeleteGreat memories. Not only memories of teaching the kids to ride, but memories of learning to ride a two wheeler. There are other things in life that match the feeling of a first time experience, but once they are realized, the intensity of feeling can no longer be replicated. We can only catch that fleeting whisp of a feeling when we are fortunate enough to see others as they enjoy its full intensity.
ReplyDeleteThanks Sandy for sharing that story. And you're right, going with the flow (sorry for the cliche) is often the best thing to do! :D
ReplyDeleteThe freedom that came with learning to ride was incredible. In the 1970s, we lived in an Old Bridge NJ neighborhood that was safe, really safe. We walked 15 minutes to school, went wherever to visit friends, rode bikes to a variety store near a highway...
ReplyDeleteRiding bikes gave us the ability to be spontaneous and not bounded by how far away the Little League fields seemed if we walked. Everything was close with a bike, and everybody had one. And the miles we put on...
What a wonderful story! Bicycles are amazing, liberating machines. Long may he ride!
ReplyDeleteYour writting make me feel the goodness that appears in my dreams
ReplyDeleteThe colors are the emotions expressed in my dreams the subjects paint themselves. Not always are the dreams clear and nice, but reality is also that way. so I do not dwell too long in each.
Riding bikes--what fun. I remember when my kids were little ones learning to ride.
ReplyDeleteYou know we all have schedules in our lives and it is so important to sometimes step out and do whatever. Be bold. MB
I remember that moment with Jasmine. I'm so gladI was there for it. It's sad how little time most families get to spend together.
ReplyDeletebeautiful words, as usual. beautiful metaphors...
ReplyDeleteoh, and I am spending my weekend with mom. if I look out of the window I see the street where I learned to ride the two wheeler. wow, I almost forgot about that... what a nice memeory, thanks for bringing it back!
ReplyDelete"Sometimes it's a blessing to be impulsive and to choose on the spur of the moment to do nothing at all with the people you love most."
ReplyDeletethe best advice definitely to start the week with =)
So right, Sandy - it's another of life's parables.
ReplyDeleteSometimes when we are impulsive like that anything can happen! Wonderful post Sandy! Happy BYB Sunday!
ReplyDeleteAs always, a wonderful read! I remember my father teaching me to ride a two-wheeler... it didn't go all that smoothly... although I did "get there" eventually... :)
ReplyDeleteGreat story. Just have to have lots of band-aids. Mom
ReplyDelete"Now, try it the other way." You are a great teacher, Sandy.
ReplyDeleteI'm glad you took the time off to be with these three precious ones too, for we are blessed with your re-telling of the tale. I remember when my daughter finally got past her training wheels on her bike and felt the freedom of flying away on just two wheels instead of four---I'll never forget that smile on her face, and I was glad I wasn't doing something else--something considered responsible.
ReplyDeleteDo you want to know a secret? I STILL can't ride a bike (shhhh, don't tell anyone). But all four of my kids can, as well as their daddy - they go on long cycle rides without me. I don't mind at all, that's when I try to write..
ReplyDeleteA beautiful post, lovingly written.
Shrinky,
ReplyDeleteI can't, either....(shhhh)
Ah yes. The spontaneous things in life... I agree. I love the spontaneous connections we make with other human beings... There's something wonderful about that...
ReplyDeleteThanks for being here.