
he taught me how to ride a bike for
the first time. I was nervous from the
understanding that I was too old to
try to learn how to do this now, but he
was patient. There were children at
the playground who stared at us as I
gripped the handlebars too tightly. Hishands were the training wheels and
when they fell away all I could think
about was making it to the wide spanof his arms as he stood waiting for
me to peddle back to him. It took a
bruising to both knees and an elbowto learn that he would wait for me no
matter what kind of shape I was in
when I returned. This is how I loveyour son: in bicycles, in long stretches
of summer heat, in the drive back to
his house where we take turns studyingeach other’s knees scrupulously under
the soft light of a setting sun. The first
cry belongs to the cicadas. The secondis entirely our own.
a.k.a. what I will be spending my first few paychecks on. Can I just have them all?
And while we’re at it, ModCloth has a great selection too. I need them for work, so it’s justified, right?

(Source: vitapois)