Ride On

Last weekend was a momentous one for our youngest, N.  On Saturday, he learned how to ride his bike without training wheels.  I think he had been a little embarrassed about not knowing how since many of his friends have been riding for a little while now.  It really wasn't his fault.  His parents just hadn't taken the time to teach him.  On Saturday morning in a moment of resignation, he declared that maybe he was just going to be one of those kids that didn't ride a bike.  Ah, but it's always darkest just before the dawn.  Within ten minutes of making that statement he was riding just fine on his own.

As I watched N riding around the parking lot of a church near our house, I thought back to when I learned to ride.  I can't remember too many details, mostly emotions.  I remember feeling some terror and exhilaration when I realized I was actually riding on my own.  I remember feeling a certain amount of relief as well.  It's such a weird, foreign experience.  Even though everyone's assuring you that you'll be able to do it, until you do, you just don't know for sure.  It's a relief to find out they were right.  By far, the strongest emotion I felt was pride.  I know that sometimes pride can be a bad thing, especially when it's excessive or used to put someone else down.  But, I think there are times when pride is justified, when it's pure and accompanied by a joy equally so.

As N rides past, the smile on his face tells me everything I need to know about how he's feeling.  I realize it's how I'm feeling as well.