Saturday, January 15, 2005
You watch 'em on the trikes. You're all hyped up about a "real" bike w/ training wheels. And then that Christmas morning comes when they get a big kid bike from Santa, sans training wheels.
You run along side them, desperately holding onto the bike, correcting the imbalance. steering with gentle pressure, to keep them going in a straight line. sometimes... not so gentle when they're veering towards that parked Ford. You teach. You explain. You warn. You let them fall from time to time to demonstrate your point. And then when you think it's hopeless, They RIDE! You let go and they don't fall. You run along side and still they don't fall. They look over and see you next to them and still they RIDE! They smile with this incredible "HEY!!! I FINALLY DID IT!!!" smile. And then you watch them go... you're chest swells. all of the images of your little girl getting bigger run through your mind. baptism. first steps. first time she actually wanted me to hold her. first overnighter with just dad. first day of kindergarten. first best friends. first boy who teases her because he likes her.
And you watch your little baby riding her bike all by herself and you're so proud you don't even notice that you've been running so much that your chest is caving in and that you can't breathe anymore, because you're baby girl just learned that she can do something that she didn't think she could do... and you helped her. wow!
and then she crashes straight into a curb flying over the handle bars and you realize that now she needs to learn how to stop. but she gets up and she's smiling and she comes running.. arms open wide - is there anything better than this?