"I counted on him"

Not Forgotten

by Sheila Packa

I learned to ride
the two wheel bicycle
with my father.
He oiled the chain
clothes-pinned playing cards
to the spokes, put on the basket
to carry my lunch.
By his side, I learned balance
and took on speed
centered behind the wide
handlebars, my hands
on the white grips
my feet pedaling.
One moment he was
holding me up
and the next moment
although I didn't know it
he had let go.
When I wobbled, suddenly
afraid, he yelled keep going—
keep going!
Beneath the trees in the driveway
the distance increasing between us
I eventually rode until he was out of sight.
I counted on him.

That he could hold me was a given
that he could release me was a gift.

"Not Forgotten" by Sheila Packa, from Cloud Birds. © Wildwood River Press, 2011. Reprinted with permission

Again from the Writer's Almanac.
I often write about why daughters ,as well as sons,(but ,I speak from being a daughter)need a dad. My dad did not stay around to raise me, however , I do remember rare occasions that he made a huge difference in my life and often wonder what potentials may have arisen in our relationship ,had I a dad who stayed around to raise me, have fun with and just be my dad. My dad did teach me to ride my bike. I think he did it really well,from what I remember. He took off the training wheels and took me to a grassy park and ran along side of me or from the behind ,holding on to the side or back end of my bike, little me, pedaling fast, with the wind blowing in my face,and then a sudden feeling of freedom ,not fear ,when he smoothly let go. I pedaled even faster and glided as if on air,and then would lose my balance as if the cloud of air beneath me blew away and I glided onto a soft velvety patch of grass. In my case, my mom would have been too anxious to gently let me go, let me fly on my own some and even let me fall,so that I would learn how to get up too,and could learn that falling needed not end up in tragedy ,but often times in growth and exploration. Sometimes ,I wish I had so much more of a dad that would have stayed around just long enough so that it would have been natural and expected ;
" that he could hold me was a given
that he could release me was a gift."
I would have been a very lucky daughter,that gift would last me a lifetime and then some....