Life: The Bike Ride

What’s the saying? It’s like riding a bike. Yeah that one. When you have not done something in a long time, people always say it is like riding a bike. Really though, riding a bike isn’t even like riding a bike. That shit is difficult. It takes practice. And just like anything else if you do not continue to practice, you will lose your skill.

Last week one of my twin daughters learned how to ride a bike. She is nearing eight years old, and I never bought her a bike. Two factors play in to this. Being a single parent, money has always been tight, and by tight I mean rent is due again, fingers crossed, pray to god, and I am an atheist. The other reason being, all the houses we have lived in have not really been bike friendly, and I am a pretty protective mom. She had been given a bike a few weeks before by our family friend, his daughter got a new one for her birthday, So Evelyn inherited the princess bike with a horn and a basket to match. She however did not inherit training wheels. When my mom picked them up for a sleep over she took the bike along. That night I received videos of my baby girl riding into the sun, barefoot and determined. I cried. I didn’t teach her how to ride a bike, but I am happy my mom did.

When I called Evelyn on the phone to congratulate her, I could feel her excitement 39 miles away.

“I am so proud of you honey!” I said through smiling teeth.

With no hesitation she said, “I am proud of me too, mommy!”

She then explained to me how she got frustrated, cried, and wanted to give up but Grandma wouldn’t let her. I told her how that proud feeling she has in her chest would not have felt nearly as good had it not been difficult to achieve. I told her the best things in life usually test us like that, and try to trick us into giving up. But if we don’t give up, lots of things can make our chests swell. She rushed off the phone because her bicycle was waiting.

I remember the first time I rode my bike without training wheels, it was 1991 and McDonald's had a commercial with a dad helping his daughter learn to ride a bike. I remember him saying you can do it and letting go of the seat. As she rides along, she starts going faster and he yells out “Where are you going?” and she then responds without looking “To McDonald's!” I only have 2 memories of my parents together, I am not really sure if they were together in ’91 or not. I do however remember we lived in a cul de sac, in a basement apartment. When I would go to my dad’s every other weekend, we would eat at one of two places, my grandma’s house or McDonald's. I collected all the California Raisins, all of the mini Barbies with “real” hair, and a shit ton of hot wheels. That day in the cul de sac, my dad was there cheering me on and reassuring me that I could do it. He was right, I could do it, and I did. And as I kept peddling away from him, he yelled out… “Where are you going?”. Now that I am older I know he asked expecting my response, “McDonald's”! I cried as I remembered that moment. Not a care in the world. Just like it should be for a five year old.

Where was my mom at the time? She worked a lot when I was growing up. That is what single moms do. It seems like that is all I do some times. The week Evelyn rode her bike for the first time, my phone and gas got shut off. My mom told me to budget. I asked her, how can you budget, when you just have too many bills and not enough money. I took a pay cut in May to leave a job that I felt was killing me. Not knowing that that month, I would stop receiving child support as well, also known as a pot hole or patch of stickers, and I am not talking Lisa Frank.

If life is like riding a bike, I feel like I still have training wheels, and two flat tires. If you are reading this, don’t worry. Our heat is on! Even if it weren’t, clean cold water is something to be valued, and you bet your ass I showered in it. (It sounded like I was hyperventilating, but I kind of liked it.) I am lucky I have great friends and family, the girls were warm at all times.

So, I have been stressed to say the least, but when I think about Evelyn’s feat, all that stress just gets pushed to the side. Just like I told her, things in life that make us feel like giving up are the things with the best pay off. Moments like her not giving up, elated with pride, it makes all the popped tires and skinned knees worth it. If I don’t give up, one day my chest is going to expand and life will feel like riding a bike into the sun, without training wheels.