One of the disappointments of my fairly happy childhood was not being allowed to have a bicycle.
Year after year I begged Santa Claus for one but it never came. I was greatly blessed with books and toys and dolls and lots of other things came my way, but no bicycle.
I suspect my parents were protecting me from hurting myself, or straying too far. They made it up in so many ways – after I started playing the flute at 8 years of age I used to receive wonderful musical gifts. Metronomes, fancy music stands, and instruments. Those wonderful flutes I was given took me much further than a bicycle ever would.
And yet I feel the loss in a couple of ways.
Now that I live in Ireland, I look around at a land that begs for bicycle exploration. And now that I am 67 with two knee replacements, I cannot risk injury of learning it now.
Not having a bicycle made me a little less fit, coordinated, and healthy than my friends. I was naturally sedentary with a nose for books and gardening. But I would have explored on that bicycle.
So I’m feeling a bit sorry for myself. I tried to learn in later years but kept falling off and I do NOT like to bleed. It was just not to be.
It is something I look forward to in heaven. I want to take a lunch, wave goodbye to God, and go exploring with young legs pedaling and young eyes looking.
Won’t that be fun?