Birthdays, biking and other stuff

Well, I’m back to my early morning musings.  The restless nights went away for a while, but I guess they missed me, and so they are making up for lost time.

We celebrated Will birthday yesterday with the usual cake with candles, song and presents.  It was the same, but different too, because chances are with his birthday falling in September, that he might not be with us to celebrate it for quite some time.  And as I was walking towards him, with the cake ablaze with candles, singing, Don dancing around him singing as well, waving his arms like an abracadabra magician, Will smiling big, love in his eyes, the sun shining in through the side window, and there was this warm yellow light surrounding him, sort of like an angelic glow.  Like God was saying, take note of this moment, savor the beauty of your boy full-grown.  And I was struck with this full happy, but sad as well, feeling.  The last Happy Birthday as a child.  The last Happy Birthday as a teenager.  Possibly the last Happy Birthday song for him in our home.  It will be over the phone now, or maybe we might visit someday where ever it is that he decides to settle.

Unless, of course he settles close, but that is unlikely, because if he’s going to be an actor, he’s going to have to live in New York, L.A, London or the like. 

Sigh.

I had a taste of the future a couple of days ago.  Don was away on business, and Will was at the Toronto Film Festival with his dad, and I was here, alone with the dogs. 

It wasn’t bad actually.  I wasn’t as lonely as I had been a few days prior when everyone was in the house.  I expected to be, but I had the dogs and the beach and the brisk breeze blowing outside to keep me company. 

And then, surprise, surprise, the next day, Becky emailed to see if I’d like to go for a walk!  Which we did and it was lovely.  And we talked about life and menopause and family and stuff.  And then she drove home again and that evening, my boy, Dave did the long drive over, after he finished work!

He brought his bike and we went biking and there is this… I was going to say, MOUNTAIN… but Dave would probably call it a small hill, or an incline or something, but I’m telling you, it is steep.  Real steep!  I’d already attempted it twice and had managed to get around 1/5 of the way up.  Just past the first water drain.

I proudly pointed out to Dave how far I had managed. 

“Wow,“ he said, face serious, eyes twinkling, like he was the adult and I was the child he was humoring. 

“It might look easy,“ I said, “but it’s really, really hard to do.“

“I bet you could get further.  Do you want to try again?“

“Oh no.“  I waved him off.  “That’s as far as I can go.  I pedaled until the bike fell over.“

“Well, lets give it a go.“

“Oh Dave…“ I didn’t want to do it.  My legs had already had a good workout on the hike with Becky, and Dave was a biking expert and I didn’t want him to see what a bad bike hill rider I was.  “I don’t think…“ 

“You can get further, mom.  I’m sure you can.  I bet you could get past that second drain there.“

“The second drain?“ My voice squeaked.  “Oh no, honey!  I could never get that far.“

“Just give it a go.“ 

And he was looking at me, like he really thought I could, and I didn’t want to let him down, so I said, “Okay, lets give it a go.“  Even though, as I said it, my heart sank down into my socks.  He smiled big, so even though, my body was cursing me out, my heart was happy, because I’d made him proud of his old mom.  We started the approach.

“Alright,“ he called over his shoulder, “put it in a higher gear and pedal as fast as you can.  Then, once you are climbing, gear down, keep pedaling fast.“

I pedaled fast.  I pedaled hard.  I got past the second drain!

And the next day, when he made me try it again, “Push harder on the foot going down,“ he said.  “You’ll build more speed that way.“ 

I pedaled even faster.  Faster than I’ve ever biked in my whole entire life, the wind whipping past.  Me, bent over my steering wheel like Eviel Kanevil (I spelled that wrong, but you get my drift).  And I made it even further up the hill.  Very LOUD noises were coming out of my mouth, but I made it 3/4 of the way up! 

And guess what?  I’m going to try that hill again today, and maybe tomorrow and the next day too.  I’m going to work on getting up that hill until I actually can and then I’m going to call my boy, Dave and tell him that I did it, and he will be proud of me all over again.

Posted by Meg Tilly on Sunday, September 20, 2009 in Chewing the Fat