It was almost dark by the time John got my bike home tonite (he’d had to ride it home from the shop where I bought it in Newport Beach).
But despite the gloaming and the rain, the kids and I went out for a bike ride (John joined us on foot, because his bike was at his office).
We decided that the large mostly-empty parking lot across the street would be the best place to ride together, with it being so rainy and almost-dark. It was great fun doing donuts around the streetlights, zooming up and down the slight hill in the middle of the lot, racing each other from one end to the other (a long ways–the parking lot is almost a block long).
It wasn’t until we were returning inside that I remembered that this was the same parking lot that I had paced back and forth in during the hours that I was in labor with C so many years ago. The contractions coming unevenly, the constant walking to both ease the pain and to initiate labor (he was a week overdue).
Back then I couldn’t have imagined myself zipping around on a bicycle with my two pre-teen kiddoes in tow. But that night, like tonite, was so full of promise, of joy, of surrender. It made me so grateful for then…for now…and for what amazing adventures the future holds for our family.
[Note: both kids had a wet mud streak up their backs after our ride. Me, I was spared such. Granny bikes don’t leave backtracks. :)]