The Bike Ride

It was, I am quite certain, our first real adventure together. Only a few blocks, but still...

They are bikes without pedals. A "this generation" cycling tool where your feet are your training wheels. This undertaking had captured his attention in recent days and now he was all in.

For two and a half, his balance was surprisingly good, allowing for some long glides before he used his feet as brakes. It was clearly a sense of freedom, of independence, for him. Now able to expand his universe, his reach.

We soon found ourselves outside the local library, as I huffed and puffed to keep up with my flying friend. He of the "Yes, Papa" each time I warned him of a raised sidewalk, a driveway we were approaching, or a street where we had to look both ways before crossing. It seemed as if he had  grown up overnight.

It was he who wanted to enter the library. He who asked me to read to him. He who finished the jigsaw puzzles on the table. He who interacted with those working in this room and those doing school projects there.

It is strange what a pair of wheels (not quite wheels yet, but you get my drift) is capable of producing. I was no longer tasked with watching my grandson but hanging with him. He was no longer a little kid but had morphed into a most interesting, capable young buddy.

When we finished our outing and returned to his house, the bike returned to its designated spot, the helmet hung on its hook, everything was as it had been before. But the reality was that nothing was the same.  Everything had now and forever irrevocably changed. 

In the time it took to take a trip merely a few blocks long.