Look at me Mom!
I've been trying to take advice from those who are older and wiser than me. I remember someone telling me that you should put aside what you're doing when your children ask you to come. They want to show you something or tell you something or just plain want your attention.
Well, I took that advice this week and boy am I glad I did. I was cleaning the boys room. I try to keep it clean but every now and again it needs a "deep clean" more like sterilization. Anyway, I was hard at work doing something when Libby came bounding in.
"Mom, come on. I want to show you something...."
Instead of brushing her off or telling her I was in the middle of something. I took 30 seconds to finish whatever was in my hands and went downstairs to join her. We went outside. She put her helmet on. And she got on a bike and rode.
For most of you this is no big deal. Libby is 7 after all, right?
But she was riding without training wheels for the first time.
You may ask why did she not learn how to ride a bike without training wheels before now? Two words: Samuel's Cancer.
When Samuel was diagnosed in August of 2010 one of the things we had to avoid during treatment was contact sports and that includes riding a bike. Unspoken we went without riding bikes. It would have been painful to have one other thing to remind us of what Samuel couldn't do... and I didn't want to leave him out.
For me, this moment was a break through. Watching Libby ride a bike... and that bike had no training wheels... I felt a glimmer of hope that maybe my life is returning to some kind of normal. Not an everyone's typical "normal" but our new level of normal for our lives.
I don't have a bike yet. I have looked on Craig's list. But I hope to soon join the kids in riding bikes.
As I watched Libby ride, her face glowing with pride, I felt so thankful that I had said yes. That I would come and see what she needed me to see. That I didn't refuse her because I was too busy with my "work".
And as she took the curve her hair flying behind her I felt myself whisper, "Amen."
Well, I took that advice this week and boy am I glad I did. I was cleaning the boys room. I try to keep it clean but every now and again it needs a "deep clean" more like sterilization. Anyway, I was hard at work doing something when Libby came bounding in.
"Mom, come on. I want to show you something...."
Instead of brushing her off or telling her I was in the middle of something. I took 30 seconds to finish whatever was in my hands and went downstairs to join her. We went outside. She put her helmet on. And she got on a bike and rode.
For most of you this is no big deal. Libby is 7 after all, right?
But she was riding without training wheels for the first time.
You may ask why did she not learn how to ride a bike without training wheels before now? Two words: Samuel's Cancer.
When Samuel was diagnosed in August of 2010 one of the things we had to avoid during treatment was contact sports and that includes riding a bike. Unspoken we went without riding bikes. It would have been painful to have one other thing to remind us of what Samuel couldn't do... and I didn't want to leave him out.
For me, this moment was a break through. Watching Libby ride a bike... and that bike had no training wheels... I felt a glimmer of hope that maybe my life is returning to some kind of normal. Not an everyone's typical "normal" but our new level of normal for our lives.
I don't have a bike yet. I have looked on Craig's list. But I hope to soon join the kids in riding bikes.
As I watched Libby ride, her face glowing with pride, I felt so thankful that I had said yes. That I would come and see what she needed me to see. That I didn't refuse her because I was too busy with my "work".
And as she took the curve her hair flying behind her I felt myself whisper, "Amen."
Comments