A salmon bike with a wicker basket.

Sometimes you have to go all the back to move forward.  I'm sure someone way more profound than I has stated this before.  But I find it to be resoundingly true for me at this moment in my life.  And for me, going back means reconnecting with things that defined me at some point or other in my life.  I guess as we get older and have to do the job of raising kids, facing change, navigating heartbreak, burying parents, watching children find their wings, managing a household, nurturing relationships, we can inadvertently forget ourselves and lose sight of what brings us joy.

My daughter and I bought bikes yesterday so that we could spend her last summer "home" as a bike posse.  We have big plans to ride our bikes everyday - to work, to get coffee or fro yo, or to just explore.  I chose a salmon colored beach cruiser with a wicker basket.  She is so pretty.  As we rode last night to get movies from RedBox, I was instantly transported to my 11 year old self, riding freely over the streets of Kailua on my beloved bike.  I spent my summer on my bike - riding to the community pool, only after stopping at the corner store across from the library to pick up a large bag of Famous Amos chocolate chip cookies, a pack of 3 giant chewy Sweettart candies and an orange Fanta soda.  I would spend hours in the library and then as the heat became too much, head across the way to the community pool to meet my friends.  We would swim until my eyes burned and the street lamps were coming on.  Somedays we would just cruise around town, to the beach, or to the store or have races up and down the streets where the grass came straight to the sidewalk and the asphalt was grainy and pocketed.  My bike was a Schwinn with a white banana seat and a white wicker basket with the colorful flowers on the front. Sometimes I put cards in my spokes so it would make sound.

I have such vivid memories of little Kailua town and the long, straight, flat stretch of road between my house on Kanaha Street and the tiny town where I roamed free. And as I am on the eve of sending my girl into the world to be independent and begin her "grown up" life at college, I am reminded how empowering independence is for a young girl; how much it helps shape us into resilient, capable and creative women, able to navigate a complicated world bravely. As I write this, it all becomes clear - the role my bike played in my childhood, the way in which the freedom it provided helped me become brave, and strong and gave me joy.

Being a grown up, with almost adult children can be lonely and honestly for me, really sad. My heart gets heavy as I redefine myself as my babies grow their own wings.  Buying these bikes filled me with joy for a moment. My heart clapped happily as I rode the streets of my Napa neighborhood, and I felt deeply aware of my authentic self in that moment.   Who knows if Abby and I will become the badass bike posse I imagine. Doesn't really matter. She will have her own childhood moments that will define her. I am fulfilled in simply the act of buying the bike for her and my fingers are crossed that she too will find the same moments of joy.