Letter written to my daughter Raylin during her first pregnancy.
_Dearest Raylin,
August 14, 2010
There’s a wrap-around parking lot not far from our apartment. The landscaping of the property and surrounding buildings makes it pretty secluded. So secluded, that frequently on weekends, people bring their kids here to teach them to drive. This morning while Ginger and I were passing the lot we heard voices. I enjoy watching the novice driver as much as the parent. We stopped at an entrance to watching the process unfold. No kids, just two adults, a couple in matching Biker Garb facing one giant Harley.
Both the man and the woman were short, broad and stocky. Both had a dark waist length braid hanging down their backs. Matching black jeans under black leather chaps, black leather Harley vests over T-Shirts, black leather buckled biker boots and black half bowl cut helmets with chin straps on top of their heads. He looked total Badass with sleek black shades and a nicely trimmed beard with mustache. There was one other obvious difference. He was confident and comfortable all over, even his clothes. She was crisp, un-crinkled and looked terrified. SHE was the novice, HE the teacher.
I watched them walk slowly around the bike, the man pointing and explaining things. The woman, nodding on cue but only getting half of what he said. Finally, “So, are you ready to do this?” She nodded affirmative. He mounted the bike, she swung on behind him. One powerful downward thrust with his leg and varoooooom, the Hog thundered to life, echoes ripped off the surrounding buildings and vibrated the ground. The bike rolled forward. His face - Serious Business. Her face - Oh Crap! They disappeared around the corner and few seconds later powered around the opposite corner. She was watching over his shoulder taking in his instructions. Around once more, stopping in the back lot to switch places. When they came around the corner again, the girl was in front. Her man, reaching around her, hands on hers showing her how work the clutch and gas. They circled the building once more then pulled over and stopped where they’d begun. He switched off the engine. She let out a deep sigh as she wiped her hands on her knees. “Alright Baby, it’s your turn,” he said.
“I don’t think I’m ready.”
“Ready or not, it’s your time.” Must have been the wrong answer because she just stared at him for a couple of beats. “You can do this Baby, I know you can.” Without a word, she sucked in a deep breathe, flipped the key, mashed down on the foot pedal as hard as she could and the Harley rumbled. “OMG, OMG, OMG,” she gave it some gas. The bike lunged forward then fell silent. She looked over at her man. “Again.” She shot him a glare, took another deep breath and restarted the bike. She gave it gas, he bike lunged forward again but didn’t die. She was moving, erratically, but moving. Her man trotted along beside her maintaining a safe distance. “More gas,” he shouted, “give it more gas!” She smoothed it out just in time to take her first turn nice and wide. The three of them disappeared around the building. As they came into sight, I saw him first, still trotting beside her at a safe distance. Around they went again. As they came around the opposite back corner, she gave it too much gas as she tried to tighten her turn. The bike was going down before she realized it. Instinctively she tried to brace herself with her left foot, hop hopping, her man tried to reach them before they went down but the wide swing of the bike stopped him from the save. Together, they righted the bike and she mounted it again. “You good?”
“I’m good.” She started it up again. Another deep breath, gave it gas and this time she rolled forward, a little smoother, and a lot straighter. She disappeared around the corner. Finally, here she came, nice and smooth but still holding her breath. She made another lap, then another. Next time around she was breathing better and had relaxed a bit into the ride. Another lap, more relaxed. Another lap. Her man jogged down to the back corner watching for her. I could tell she’d turned into his view because all of a sudden he started jumping up and down, fists pumping the air, “Whoaa Baby! Look at you! Look at you GO! YOU GOT IT, YOU GOT IT!! ”
I saw her face as she passed me, she was smiling to beat hell. Her man, still shouting encouragement, was smiling to beat hell too. She took three more laps before braking to a stop. He was right there. She turned the bike off, did her own victory punches in the air then dismounted into his arms. Together they rocked back and forth, laughing, smiling and hugging, laughing, smiling and hugging some more.
As I watched this scene unfold, I thought of you Sweetie. All your fears and doubts you’ve shared with me about transitioning into parenthood. Parenting starts off just like this girl did. You’ll have all the right gear, you’ll totally look the part, but you’ll feel like you don’t know squat. You’ll still be scared to death. Just like the Biker man said, you may not feel ready, but it’s your time.
I know you Raylin, like no one else does. You will rise to meet this challenge and exceed your own expectations. You might wibble wobble at first, you’ll definitely hold your breath and grit your teeth. You might give it too much gas and tip over. And my dear sweet daughter, you won’t be alone. There are plenty of us who will be watching, who will be running close by your side ready to help get you back on your feet when needed.
Learn the major components. Listen to those who really know how to ride. Some people like to talk big and just look the part. Learn to trust your gut and let your own instincts kick in. Hold on tight, try not to give it more gas than you can handle. But the most important thing you need to know is, you will find your own balance, your own rhythm – no one can teach you that. And Raylin Dear, know this, confidence comes in laps.
I love you Sweetie – YOU CAN DO THIS!!! Now BREATHE!
Love Always,
Mom
There’s a wrap-around parking lot not far from our apartment. The landscaping of the property and surrounding buildings makes it pretty secluded. So secluded, that frequently on weekends, people bring their kids here to teach them to drive. This morning while Ginger and I were passing the lot we heard voices. I enjoy watching the novice driver as much as the parent. We stopped at an entrance to watching the process unfold. No kids, just two adults, a couple in matching Biker Garb facing one giant Harley.
Both the man and the woman were short, broad and stocky. Both had a dark waist length braid hanging down their backs. Matching black jeans under black leather chaps, black leather Harley vests over T-Shirts, black leather buckled biker boots and black half bowl cut helmets with chin straps on top of their heads. He looked total Badass with sleek black shades and a nicely trimmed beard with mustache. There was one other obvious difference. He was confident and comfortable all over, even his clothes. She was crisp, un-crinkled and looked terrified. SHE was the novice, HE the teacher.
I watched them walk slowly around the bike, the man pointing and explaining things. The woman, nodding on cue but only getting half of what he said. Finally, “So, are you ready to do this?” She nodded affirmative. He mounted the bike, she swung on behind him. One powerful downward thrust with his leg and varoooooom, the Hog thundered to life, echoes ripped off the surrounding buildings and vibrated the ground. The bike rolled forward. His face - Serious Business. Her face - Oh Crap! They disappeared around the corner and few seconds later powered around the opposite corner. She was watching over his shoulder taking in his instructions. Around once more, stopping in the back lot to switch places. When they came around the corner again, the girl was in front. Her man, reaching around her, hands on hers showing her how work the clutch and gas. They circled the building once more then pulled over and stopped where they’d begun. He switched off the engine. She let out a deep sigh as she wiped her hands on her knees. “Alright Baby, it’s your turn,” he said.
“I don’t think I’m ready.”
“Ready or not, it’s your time.” Must have been the wrong answer because she just stared at him for a couple of beats. “You can do this Baby, I know you can.” Without a word, she sucked in a deep breathe, flipped the key, mashed down on the foot pedal as hard as she could and the Harley rumbled. “OMG, OMG, OMG,” she gave it some gas. The bike lunged forward then fell silent. She looked over at her man. “Again.” She shot him a glare, took another deep breath and restarted the bike. She gave it gas, he bike lunged forward again but didn’t die. She was moving, erratically, but moving. Her man trotted along beside her maintaining a safe distance. “More gas,” he shouted, “give it more gas!” She smoothed it out just in time to take her first turn nice and wide. The three of them disappeared around the building. As they came into sight, I saw him first, still trotting beside her at a safe distance. Around they went again. As they came around the opposite back corner, she gave it too much gas as she tried to tighten her turn. The bike was going down before she realized it. Instinctively she tried to brace herself with her left foot, hop hopping, her man tried to reach them before they went down but the wide swing of the bike stopped him from the save. Together, they righted the bike and she mounted it again. “You good?”
“I’m good.” She started it up again. Another deep breath, gave it gas and this time she rolled forward, a little smoother, and a lot straighter. She disappeared around the corner. Finally, here she came, nice and smooth but still holding her breath. She made another lap, then another. Next time around she was breathing better and had relaxed a bit into the ride. Another lap, more relaxed. Another lap. Her man jogged down to the back corner watching for her. I could tell she’d turned into his view because all of a sudden he started jumping up and down, fists pumping the air, “Whoaa Baby! Look at you! Look at you GO! YOU GOT IT, YOU GOT IT!! ”
I saw her face as she passed me, she was smiling to beat hell. Her man, still shouting encouragement, was smiling to beat hell too. She took three more laps before braking to a stop. He was right there. She turned the bike off, did her own victory punches in the air then dismounted into his arms. Together they rocked back and forth, laughing, smiling and hugging, laughing, smiling and hugging some more.
As I watched this scene unfold, I thought of you Sweetie. All your fears and doubts you’ve shared with me about transitioning into parenthood. Parenting starts off just like this girl did. You’ll have all the right gear, you’ll totally look the part, but you’ll feel like you don’t know squat. You’ll still be scared to death. Just like the Biker man said, you may not feel ready, but it’s your time.
I know you Raylin, like no one else does. You will rise to meet this challenge and exceed your own expectations. You might wibble wobble at first, you’ll definitely hold your breath and grit your teeth. You might give it too much gas and tip over. And my dear sweet daughter, you won’t be alone. There are plenty of us who will be watching, who will be running close by your side ready to help get you back on your feet when needed.
Learn the major components. Listen to those who really know how to ride. Some people like to talk big and just look the part. Learn to trust your gut and let your own instincts kick in. Hold on tight, try not to give it more gas than you can handle. But the most important thing you need to know is, you will find your own balance, your own rhythm – no one can teach you that. And Raylin Dear, know this, confidence comes in laps.
I love you Sweetie – YOU CAN DO THIS!!! Now BREATHE!
Love Always,
Mom
