This was a big day for me. Although I don’t remember where my turquoise tricycle was purchased, it was on a dress-up kind of day. It was rare that I rode in a dress and my fancy shoes.
I’d loved my stroller, sled, and wagon, but a tricycle was different. It meant a new kind of freedom. I loved the way my strong little legs could make that thing move. I crashed more than once trying to see how fast I could go before losing control. Pushing the limit was worth the pain of skinned knees.
Not long after I was given my new wheels, my dad came home for lunch between jobs. He worked two, and we didn’t get a lot of time together. When it was time for him to leave, we said good-by, but I was not done seeing him.
A few blocks from home, for some reason, he can’t remember; he looked in his rearview mirror. He was surprised to see me in the middle of the road, pedaling my trike as fast as I could. He says he was afraid for me – it was a normally busy road, and that he was also surprised by my determination. He took me and my tricycle home. After being sternly admonished for my actions, I’m told I was a very good girl the rest of the day. Well of course I was. Admonishment aside, I’d gotten a few more minutes with my daddy. That had been the whole point.
When I look at this picture of me and my new wheels, I always think of the circus – a small one that came to town, and I wore this dress and these shoes. I remember the smell of the elephants and popcorn. Under the big tent, it was hot, and I felt itchy. In those days, little girls dressed up for almost every public event, and many of my memories involve outfits and hair styles. We weren’t rich, and we didn’t go often, but we always looked nice when we did. But, not when playing outside. Getting a big present like this when it wasn’t my birthday (which is in December), was an “event” in my life and those often happened after Sunday school and dinner. (Although she’s not certain, Mom thinks this might have also been the day we went to the circus. If that’s true, it was a big day in my life for sure.)
After a few years, I wore my pretty tricycle out. When one of the back wheels fell off, and Daddy couldn’t fix it because it had rusted off, we had to get rid of it. I already had a two-wheeler by then, but my Chatty Cathy “rode” my tricycle strapped on with one of Dad’s old belts (we didn’t have seat belts in cars yet) while I pushed us along with one foot on the ground and the other on the ”back step” of the trike. My girl and I went a lot of places in the neighborhood together.
Giving up this set of wheels was like letting a part of me go. I’ve felt that way about most of the bikes and cars in my life. They aren’t a live, but they sure make living easier and more fun.
Joy
YOUR LIFE, A LEGACY if FREE for KINDLE READERS through Feb 5th. You can get it HERE.
Legacy Givers (those who write their stories with the intention of sharing them), often ask what do do when the story on their heart has no closure. Here’s my response to them – it may not satisfy, but it’s honest.
