On Your Left
Like baby ducks waddling behind their mama in a perfect line, that’s how my boys trailed me on their bikes when they were young. One of our favorite pastimes on spring break in Florida was (and still is) riding my parents’ fleet of bikes on the perfectly paved paths throughout their community. As they followed me, I would teach them how to ring their little bells and say “On your left” as they passed walkers or joggers, giving them fair warning to get out of our way.
These days the boys bellow out “On your left,” to me. These days it’s mama duck trailing behind. “Wait,” I want to yell. “I am supposed to be leading you. I’m supposed to be in front!” But the truth is, they know the way. They don’t need me. At least not for this.
That’s a hard lesson, isn’t it? To realize that there are just some areas where our kids don’t need us? But does that mean I stop pedaling, that I put away the bike and stop participating? Absolutely not. In fact, this shift of letting our kids take the lead, and perhaps even show us a different path, is a chance to help build their confidence and creativity.
Allowing our kids to lead can also give us a glimpse into what is important to them. For example, had Asher not taken the lead on our bike rides, we would have never turned into the golf club parking lot to look at cars. I would never know what a McLaren P1 or a Bugatti Chiron look like. Nor would I know that a Rolls Royce comes with an umbrella embeded in the door. I don’t particulary care about cars, but I love seeing the enthusiasm Asher has for them.
When we find ourselves in an area where our kids don’t necessarily need us anymore, we are faced with a choice: we can walk away defeated and feeling useless, or we can embrace the opportunity to engage with and learn from them. I’m grateful that I allowed Asher to lead us into that parking lot. That I didn’t fight for control or dictate the path we would ride. In zigzagging in and out of the parked cars on our bikes, I watched him oooh and ahhh over the fancy cars. Anytime I get a chance to witness sheer joy on my kids’ faces, my heart swells. What is most important, however, is that Asher was the expert there. It was his voice that was heard. He was the one we were most invested in at that moment.
I know it sounds silly because we’re talking cars. But cars are among my son’s passions and if that is the vehicle (get it?) that I can use for further conversations and connection, then I’m going to listen to what he has to say about them. Even if it stings a little to move over when he yells, “On the left,” I’m going to do my best to move out of the way so he can pass, and then pedal as fast as I can to keep up with where he wants to lead.
