Today, I watched as my six-year-old brick of a boy, sturdy and bruised, climbed onto the hand-me-down princess bike. It’s long since lost it’s streamers but the pink still shines. Though dulled by the sun, those delicate princess faces remain. Is this what my life has come to? rings in my head. He straps on his helmet and from beneath the dorsal fin he grins through the window. So proud, he is, of this new-found ability: two wheels. So proud that the pink goes unnoticed.
Two nights ago, as he was out back at the grill, Jeff took a wrench to the training wheels on the pink bike. We had a goal: two wheels by Christmas and we’d get him a new one. Anything but pink.
A father’s promise: I’ll be right behind. I’ll catch you if you fall. But at the sound of go off he zoomed–there was no catching up. He never even looked back. He was too busy, looking ahead.
“Life is like a bicycle. To keep your balance, you must keep moving.” – Albert Einstein