Dylan woke up Monday morning and said, “Last night was the best night ever.” It was pretty awesome. He learned how to ride a bike.
After some timid driveway and sidewalk attempts, Mike took him around the block. They disappeared clumsily around the corner with Dylan struggling to keep his feet on the peddles and Mike running alongside with one hand on the handle bars and the other on the back of the seat. When they finally emerged again, Dylan was riding his bike all by himself. Gliding toward me. Peddling like crazy with a huge smile on his face. It was pure magic.
I took this picture right after his jaunt around the block.
It was a huge milestone, and I reveled in it as any Mama would.
Extraordinary “firsts” like these – riding a bike, tying shoes, or losing a tooth – make time stand still. Or maybe they make us keenly aware of just how fast time goes by. Whichever it is, they shock our hearts, and they leave us in awe. Like when Dylan took his first steps and when he walked into his Kindergarten classroom on his own, my baby boy rode a bike, and it. was. astonishing.
The thing is, though, life is filled with extraordinarily sad moments, too. Just like their happy counterparts, they also make time stand still. They also make us keenly aware of just how fast time goes by. They also shock our hearts and leave us in awe.
“It was the best night ever,” I replied. “You rode your bike all by yourself, and Daddy and I are so proud of you.” Then I said (although maybe I shouldn’t have), “There’s only one thing that would’ve made last night better.”
“What?” he asked.
“If Harry were there to see it, too,” I said.
“Yeah, I wish Harry had seen it, too,” he said.
To our great surprise, Harry came home on Friday night. We were over the moon and ready to nurse our pup back to health. By Sunday morning, though, he refused to eat or take his medication, and he was visibly in pain. At lunchtime, he vomited. In that instant, we knew something was wrong. We knew he had to go back. Mike took him to the hospital, and he’s been there ever since.
The doctors are still trying to figure out if it’s pancreatitis, a fairly common post-surgical complication, or if it’s another herniated disc in his lower back, which would put us right back where this nightmare started two long weeks ago.
I’d be lying if I told you I didn’t cry myself to sleep on Sunday night thinking about Harry. (I did.) But, as I drifted off, I also replayed in my mind over and over again the exquisite moment when Dylan cruised around the corner on his bike like he was king of the world. Both made time stand still. Both made me keenly aware of just how fast time goes by. Both shocked my heart and left me in awe.
The Runaway Mama by Jen Gregory 