i got a feeling…

I came across this picture and I decided that there is something hidden in it that we should never forget.  It is not so much a lesson, as it is a feeling.  The feeling that we used to have as children growing up in New England at the change of seasons-  winter into spring.  Afternoons would fade into evenings as the days got longer.  My backyard was Glen Meadow Park and it came alive with the voices of  Little Leaguers playing ball as proud parents cheered from wooden bleachers.  My love for baseball took root in this park, and grew with each crack of the bat.  Back to the feeling…

Child World.  The toy store of the 70s.  What a gem that place was.  My father took me there and I picked out my first two- wheeler.  It was metallic royal blue with a white banana seat and decked with streamers on the handle bars. “What a beauty!” as he would say.   I remember one late afternoon, riding like the wind up Trickett Road, and down the hill that turned into Atherton Circle.  Beaming with pride and filled with anxious energy as I journeyed farther away from my house, I  summoned all of my courage and let go of the right hand grip.  I waved frantically to people who were my neighbors but seemed to live miles away.  I waved and I screamed, “This is my new bike!”  People smiled at me and waved back.  I had found freedom that (at my age) only a bike could give me.

So remember the feeling.  When you are watching your own child, or your neighbor’s child, or your niece or nephew…any little person who is taking those first few pedals without training wheels. When you are frustrated that she traveled a little beyond your view.  When he takes that corner a little too ambitiously and falls over. Remember the exhilaration, the feeling of excitement, pure happiness, and fear…a mixture that can’t be bottled.  If  you can remember, you will understand.

Good times.

photo sources: tumblr_lvbonbqBgW1qdc1g5o1_500, plaidstallions.com

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4 responses

  1. I can remember watching how diligently and carefully you “parked” that blue bike in our backyard shed. Great memories of looking out my kitchen window at my children playing in our beautiful backyard! I must admit I didn’t realize you ventured so far from home on that new bike!!

  2. I remember my father teaching me how to ride my red and white two wheeler…no training wheels in those olden days, just a dad running behind holding the seat and not telling when he let go and you were on your own. It was great. My mother, however, stood in the doorway wringing her hands sure that certain death was just around the corner. You brought that memory back so clearly, Cal. Thanks.

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