Are You Pedaling?

I was 12 years old when I finally learned to ride a bike. Honestly, I had no desire to even learn but my dad felt like it was a necessary life skill. I still remember the pastel green bike with a banana seat. He promised me he would hold onto the seat and not let go. I went around in circles in the back yard with him right behind me hanging on until one turn I saw my dad standing in front of me. I, of course, panicked and fell. But I got back on and that was that. I could ride a bike. I lived in a neighborhood with a lot of kids, most of whom came to my mom's daycare. So it was fun to join them on afternoon and summer bike rides. Except that I had a hand-me-down bike and felt like I didn't fit in. I had steady babysitting jobs and eventually saved up enough money to buy a new bike. My dad was so excited to take me to Coast To Coast Hardware and pick out a cool new bike without a banana seat! It was black with orange tiger print accents and later my dad added tiger tails to the handle bars that he got from the local Exxon gas station. Now I was a cool kid, or so I thought! ;-) Later, on a visit to Value Village my dad and I came across 2 matching yellow bikes. He decided we would buy them and he would turn them into a tandem bike that we could ride together. I couldn't believe he could even do something like that, but he did! We would ride that tandem bike all around the neighborhood and wave at all the neighbors as we went by. He would always yell back to me, "are you pedaling?" I always told him I was but the truth is I wasn't. Why would I? I was in the back and going for a ride on his pedaling skills, it was awesome! I mean, sometimes I would pedal, like after he called me out on it, but usually not.

My dad and I weren't always close. As is glaringly obvious from my blog posts, I was a mama's girl. He worked a lot and was a bit of a stranger to me. I was an awkward kid, we had trouble connecting and I felt like I was difficult for him to love. He was charismatic, confident, social and outgoing. All the things I wasn't. We coexisted, going through the normal motions of parent and child. The funny thing is that because my mom ran a home daycare he was actually more of my parent than she was when it came to school functions, sports, rides to work, college tours and even my first driving lesson. I'll never forget that day! He was so excited I had my drivers permit and had started drivers ed. We went to the local Park & Ride and I got behind the wheel. I drove around in circles, kind of like when I learned to ride that bike, until he felt like we'd done enough practicing and wanted me to park the car. I had no idea what I was doing, went in for the parking spot a little too fast, he started yelling for me to stop but I hit the gas pedal instead. Oops. I went up and over the curb with the front tires before finding the brake pedal. I offered to back the car up but he decided the lesson was over and I got back in the passenger seat. He didn't get back in a car with me for years! Lol! I'll save my driving stories with my mom for another day - they even involve Kraft Macaroni and Cheese! After I moved out and started adulting we grew even more apart despite my constant visits and spending as much time as possible with my mom. He lived in the shadows of my relationship with her. Until I got pregnant. I lived with my parents for part of my pregnancy and although my mom was taking care of me (spoiling me to be honest) my dad took on an active, protective role in my life against my will. It was very foreign to me and we didn't always get along. We fought, there's not a nice way to say it. Can I blame the hormones? I used to tell him the baby could hear him and was going to be scared of him because of all the yelling. Little did I know that my daughter would love him unconditionally from the second she was born and always picked him first. He could comfort her better than the rest of us. He was always carrying her around with him while going about his day and she was contagiously content in his arms which brought peace to my dad and I. That peace slowly blossomed into trust, understanding and eventually love. I had no idea how important that shift in our relationship would be until my mom passed away and I needed him more than ever. It didn't take me long to realize he needed my daughter and I just as much. As we went through the motions of going through life with the absence of my mom, holes in our hearts and bruised spirits we became each others lifelines. My dad and I kept each other alive in the midst of darkness. We filled the voids as naturally as if we'd always been close. He believed in me and encouraged me to take on life challenges like boss. My daughter and I kept him company and included him in all of our adventures. He still carried her all around with him and catered to her angelic independent personality. We became a strong family unit. My daughter grew up with the love of a grandparent I thought only my mom could provide. I raised her with the support I thought only my mom could provide. We were inseparable and we took full advantage of making memories together while we still had the chance. I called him every day. We told each other "I love you". He was a constant presence in our home. He walked me down the aisle. He bought my daughter her first bike without having to convince her it was a necessary life skill. We embraced our new roles and I finally started pedaling to pull my weight in this relationship I knew I couldn't live without. And the rest is history.