Lucy started riding a bike.My 6-year-old daughter is riding a bike. wtf? Where did time go? The training wheels are gone and she’s peddling – on her own. Where did my baby go? Just a moment ago I was wrapping her in my arms telling her not to grow up. These moments bring out all the emotions in me. Like learning to ride a bike, fatherhood (and parenting in general) is such a wild ride. Everything in me wants to keep them young. Sheltered. Safe. It’s so hard to try to keep the inevitable from happening. They grow up into real people so fast and that’s a fact. I mean, look at us. How am I old enough to have a 6-year-old daughter that’s riding a bike? But why do we have this internal longing to shelter this beauty from precious growth? It’s called love. The deep moving, deep soul-in-the-body energy, “you are apart of me” kind of love. The love that says, “I don’t want you to go through what ‘growing up’ actually is.” Growing up is hard.It’s amazing. And it hurts. How can we prepare these little souls for the world that awaits them and still protect their innocence? Their precious youth and wonder – the joy of riding a bike for the first time without training wheels.
Here I am, pushing my “baby” who is now 2 in the stroller, watching my first baby finding her wings to peddle harder than I probably did at her age. I love fatherhood. The circular nature of it all. Watching time unfold before my eyes. Trying to take it all it. Savor it.