Old friend, New blog

Last year I re-connected with my friend Laurie, with whom I was pretty much joined at the hip for most of my 20's. I love this photograph of her holding a birthday cake she made for me because it really shows her personality - fun, thoughtful and full of good energy. Now Laurie is married, lives outside of Boston, is also a mom of 2 young boys and works for a great children's book publishing company called Barefoot Books. She recently created a blog to chronicle her experience in these areas called "Rocks in the Dryer." Laurie's writing is uniquely thoughtful, funny, and always from the heart. Her recent post titled "Letting Go" is about teaching her youngest son to ride a bike, and what she learned from herself, her deepest self, in the process. Here it is:

As if this week wasn’t “big” enough, what with back to school and the start of kindergarten, I decided to teach Christian to ride his bike.

The opportunity presented itself in the form of a super cool hand-me-down bike, neither of us could resist. Christian is one month away from being 4 and while he is rather physically inclined - I figured this would take a while.

I wrapped him in my special “learn to ride a bike contraption” (two ribbon belts connected and wrapped under the arms, connected in the back/ center of shoulder blades) and he was ready to go. I ran beside him, just as I did his brother, though Davis was 4.5 when we attempted this. I run beside and hold the belt contraption thing so that I am slightly supporting his body, but not him, not the bike.

Problem 1 - I was wearing flip flops

Problem 2 - He was going way to fast

I found myself (sweating and stressing) scream-begging him to slow down. Seriously, I couldn’t run fast enough to keep up with him. Slow Down, Slow Down, This is Serious!, There is danger, Danger, Danger!! - Watch out! Too Fast, we have to wait for daddy to get home, he can run faster . . . stop laughing this is SERIOUS, you could get hurt - blah blah blah. It was all of my fear, deep and true to the core - I was scared to death. He was elated. Underneath my pathetic, irrational fear a little voice began to speak to me. This voice calmly began, quiet and nurturing at first, then strong and confident. “Let go”. “Let Go, you have to let go.”

Tears sprang and burned. The answer came from within, when I quieted enough to listen to it, so amazing.

Though I didn’t want to, I had many excuses why I shouldn’t . . .I did it. I stopped my imbecile running and let go. He rode, and rode and laughed and squealed with such joy and raw, true joy. One more moment, flash, sensation that simply will never be felt in my life again. Gone. Moment. Precious. Fleeting. It was pure joy, pure fear, pure love, pride, past and future, loss and gain.

He turned pro in about 15 minutes.

We rode to Montessori School the next day (4 miles on a town path).

What else can be said on the subject, I am proud of us both.