“Let go, Dad!”
We weren’t 5 seconds into her first lesson but I saw the confidence in her eyes as I let my hand slip off the handlebars of her bike.
I still remember spinning her around through a sea of bubbles and giggling together as we tried to pop them all. She was so little. The only thing that mattered in those moments was the laughter. She is 5 now and while there is still lots of laughter, something else has emerged. Now I see a little girl standing in front of me who has real thoughts and feelings and emotions, and I’m not going to lie, it’s a little scary.
It feels like a never ending struggle to find a balance between keeping her safe and letting her explore the world on her own, which I know she loves to do. She constantly pushes her comfort zone to the limit and surprises me at every turn, reminding even me that life itself is about pushing yourself and not being satisfied with the status quo.
The cliché goes, “You can do anything you set your mind to”, and we all laugh at the absurdity of it, but with her I believe it. Tell her she’s too little and she’ll fight to prove you wrong, which is good because we haven’t blessed her with height.
She beamed with pride on this day, as did her parents, as she felt the wind rushing past her face and rang her bell to let the neighbourhood know that the training wheels were gone. Letting go wasn’t easy but the reward was far greater than the fear.