THE FIRST RIDE

I never liked taking pictures. I always thought that life is short
enough that I could just keep in my memory everything that is worth
remembering.

* * *

The girl was over six years old. She had been riding a bike with
training wheels for the last three years. I would usually go for a
walk and she would ride the bike.  Those were the rare occasions that
I can spend alone with her and I enjoyed them as much as I could.

It was time for her to learn to ride without the training wheels. I
took the wrench and started taking them off. The mother saw what I was
doing and the fight started. The times of rational arguments were long
gone. The actual spoken words did not really matter. This was a pure
contest of wills. She did not care for preliminaries and dove right in.

"What are you doing?" she said.
"Taking the training wheels off."

"Why?"
"So she can learn to ride without them."

"Put them back on!"
"No."


This back and forth continued for a while. The girl was in the middle
of it, soaking it in.


"I would not let her ride like that."
"Then, I would not go for a walk with her."

The mother was tired and needed a break from the girl. Her fatigue was
fighting over her smothering protection and control of the girl as
well as her need to win the argument.

"What if she falls?"
"Then she falls."

"Why can't you just put them back on?"
"Because I won't."

"I wouldn't let her ride without a helmet on."
I said nothing.

I finished taking off the training wheels. The girl and I went out of
the house. We went to the large parking lot of the nearby church. The
surface had a slight incline so it was easier to learn to ride
downhill. It was a warm sunny day of late spring.

At first, I held the bike by the stem of the handlebar and the
seatpost for security as she rode. Then, I let go of the handlebar
and just held on to the seatpost. Then, I gradually released the
grip. The girl sensed the lack of support and balked.

"Daddy, I can't do it!"
"Sure you can, honey. You just need to learn to balance. It's easy."

"No, I can't!"
"Try it. You'll learn quickly."

The girl's own fear was mixed with the anxiety she picked up from the
mother. She did not trust me.

"Can't you put the wheels back on?"
"No."

"I'll never learn!"
"You'll learn very fast. Just try it."

"I don't want to do it!!" she yelled again. The mother's tone can be
                          easily heard.
"We are going home then."

She tried crying. I stood firm. Curiosity and sense of adventure
gradually won over fear. The girl tried several more times. She
alternated further attempts with crying and protestations that she
would never ever learn.

Then, she did it. At first she just rode a few yards. But she quickly
learned to ride in circles. She was excited and proud of herself. She
wanted me to look at her. She wanted to play some kind of bike-riding
game.

I was exhausted. I told her to ride laps around the parking lot and
sat down on the curb. This moment was special.  I sensed that my time
with the gril was limited. I did not know how many special moments
like this we were left to share. For now, I just tried to take in as
much as I could. Tried to remember the girl on the bike beaming with
excitement, the bright sun, the black pavement of the parking lot, the
nearby fur trees, the warmth of the spring air. I wanted to keep it
all in memory for as long as I could.