The Green Bike Incident

Many of my earliest memories involved riding a neon green bike, during the second stint in Hawaii. I had learned to ride a bike with training wheels in California on this oversized red bike, but when my parents moved us back to the islands they gave me that green bike. I can still remember it well, it had white tires and parts of the frame were white too, but it was impossible to miss because is was nuclear reactor green. It was a perfect size for me at the time and I loved that thing. I would ride around outside all the time with it. I started to get better and tried doing wheelies, so I fell a lot too.

But one of times I won't ever forget was around the time I had gotten comfortable (aka: fell enough that I was accustomed to scabs) and my parents took me out for a bike ride. Of course Reynnie was there too, but in the form of a doughy little lump on the back of my dad's bike. We didn't go far, only to my school and back. But on my way back we were riding and I was racing out ahead and all of a sudden I hit something (I don't remember what, could have been a rock or a coconut) and I was launched from my bike. Nothing really happened, I was really lucky because I got really good at falling. I knew I was going down so I just looked for the softest landing and jumped into the grass and rolled it out.

Of course, this freaked my mom out. I know she had seen me come in with scrapes and cuts, bumps and bruises, but up til that point I'm not sure how much she saw me fall. Her mom instincts clicked into gear and she jumped off that bike and was right next to me in a hurry. Being four, I didn't see what the big deal was. I hadn't quite reached the point where I realize that I wasn't all important in the world and everyone should know that this fall was nothing for me. So I probably looked quizzically at my mom, and she went on and fussed a bit more until she realized that I was completely okay.

About 20 years have passed since that incident, and with those twenty years I have really learned that parenting really is a lifelong thing. Not because I have my own child (for the kid's sake, thank god), but because my mom is still there ready to help me up. I even think she knows I could do all this by myself, and that comforts her, but she'll never lose those instincts. I think Reynnie and I had enough falls (there was a period from about 4 to 14 where I probably had a scab on my body every day of my life) where my mom got used to running out to help us (and we needed it, I have broken an arm in the airport, been bounced off many a reef, Reynnie tore off his face in a freak kneeboard/skateboard accident, he also had a vicious spill after being towed on a skateboard behind a gokart). I got to the point where I was hoping that she would calm down, because I am a bit adventurous and I didn't want to worry my mom (ex. twenty third birthday I was in New Zealand and about to return home and I told her I didn't want anything for my birthday and she still sent a huge care package) . But now I just accept it, it's who she is, she likes sending care packages to me when away. It's like the green bike incident, she knows I'm fine but just wants to make sure I know she's there and that I don't forget her. She shouldn't worry, I love her, she's unequivocally the best mom ever.

Best wishes to all the great mothers out there, but especially my mom, Ellie Murphy.

Happy Mother's Day.