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There are some childhood memories that stick with you no matter how old you get. I only remember 2 things in my life before learning to ride a bike when I was 5 years old. The first was my 4-year-old birthday party where my dad inadvertently gave me a black eye while horsing around. The second was the day my sister came home from the hospital and I had the chickenpox and wasn’t allowed to see her. And right after that is the memory of Grandpa Smart teaching me to ride a bike in front of their house on the Llewelly Street.

Even 30 years later I can still remember my red bike, my winter coat with a hood that he held me up by, and my first crash into a parked car before I mastered the brakes. Perhaps teaching someone to ride a bike is a lot like riding a bike, you just don’t forget. Those lessons all came flooding back to me this past weekend when I got to do something with Helena that I have been looking forward to for the last 5 years.

We started on Friday night (8/8/14) with a trip to target for some safety gear including a fancy pink and purple helmet as well as princess gloves, elbow pads, and kneepads. I told her that Papa had found a bike for her and that it was at home waiting for her if she would like to try riding.  Before we got started, we took off the training wheels (that we never used) and suited up for some lessons. We had a goal of learning to ride within the next couple weeks and maybe even before grandma arrived on the 14th. I would guess that we spent about half an hour on Friday night practicing our balance on the curb and doing a little bit of riding. We followed that up with another 45 minutes on Saturday.

Then on Sunday, 8/10, (which coincidentally is the 12 year anniversary of mine and Christine’s first date) when Christine returned from her work trip we had another riding lesson in the morning. Truthfully, I didn’t think she would be riding by herself on Sunday morning. She was still very wobbly the day before but we were both very excited to keep practicing. She amazed me, as Helena continues to do on an almost daily basis, with how much better her balance was in just one day and it just clicked for her. Christine was there to watch as I let go of her hood and our amazing little girl kept on going all by herself. I was, and still am, incredibly proud of her and you can see by the smile on her face in the pictures below that she was equally as proud of herself. I always tell her that I don’t care if she does well or not, but I do care how hard she tries and her attitude while learning to ride made me even more proud of the little girl we have.

Although Grandpa Smart is gone, I like to imagine that it would have made him very happy to see his grandson teach his great-granddaughter how to ride a bike (something that was a big part of his life) the same way he taught his grandson over 30 years ago. Thanks for the great memories Grandpa! Wish you could see Helena now…

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