When I was a little girl, my daddy taught me to ride a bike in the driveway of a 2 bedroom house we moved into, rebuilding our lives after our house burned. I can remember him holding the back of my banana seat as I tried to pedal independently. I wanted to ride freely, like my sister and brother. In those few days, my dad and I talked about growing up and that one day I would be “double digits.”  Even now, I  remember every detail.  The smell of the wind hitting my face once that freedom was gained, the crunch of pebble and dirt as my tires glided down that seemingly infinitely long driveway. Those memories resonate, if I just close my eyes and listen. 

I learned how to ride that pink and white bike, and I gained that tiny, yet enormous, amount of liberty. And, when I rode, I would shout, “One day, I will be 10! I will be double digits!”  And, magically, one day, in the blink of an eye, I was. The day of my 10th birthday, my daddy came into my room and whispered in my ear, “You made it. You are double digits today. You will never be a single digit again.”  I was so thrilled at this accomplishment– this day that I had yearned for. 

As I type now, I smile as I reminisce of those simpler, little girl days. We didn’t have a ton of money, but my siblings and I had a daddy who loved us and taught us and hugged us at bedtime each night. 

Maggie will be 10 years old in just a few days- her own double digits await. I want to tell her to not rush. Hold on to your bike riding days for as long as you can. Enjoy your own daddy guiding you through childhood, and remember the sounds and scents of your days of simplicity and unadulterated inhibition. 

Even now, I miss that daddy of yesteryear, but I am so very thankful to have him in the present. And, whenever I think of him, I can still feel his hands steadying me for those challenging days that would come. And, I know he will never truly let go- not even when my double digits are 37. 

Happy Father’s Day, Dad.