11/30/2018: I vividly remember my original 8th birthday when I got my very first bicycle, a beautiful blue full sized bike with slender racing tires and no training wheels. We lived in the country in a time when kids roamed free from morning till dusk. Before this, my personal independence day, I rode only on the back of my brother’s bike with no choice but to share his destination. Learning to ride didn’t take long. The sparse lawn where my stepdad taught me was difficult to navigate but a soft landing when I fell. My permanently scarred knees are a subtle reminder of occasional bloody encounters with the gravel at the base of our driveway over the years, temporarily painful but never daunting. Nothing could dampen the heady freedom of riding solo on those country roads, endlessly, effortlessly, hands dangling at my sides.
Life remains good as I turn 8 once again, scars and all. Thank you, Mary Lou! Happy rebirthday to me.
Love to all,