I gave in to my kid’s wishes. We went out yesterday. I started teaching her how to ride a bicycle on our own Baguio’s own Burnham park. A rather old skill to learn for a nine-year old kid, I think.

She used to ride those bikes with training wheels. Based on my own experience, I told her that training wheels aren’t much use in learning how to balance. I managed to convince her to learn with my help.

I learned how to ride a bicycle in my early years on my own. I was twelve and about to graduate from grade school. One of my classmates was willing to lend me a bike because her relatives own a biking stall. I was practiced everyday. I distinctly remember that I mastered how to bike in seven days.

I guided my kid by running along with her as she struggles to balance with the movement of the bike. Sometimes I would suddenly remove my hands so that she could try to pedal and balance all by herself. I kept on encouraging her that she could do it.

She was so happy learning this new skill. I was so happy to be teaching her this stuff. She asked me if I we could do this again on the next weekend. I couldn’t disagree.

The teaching experience was so symbolic. As my kid grows up and faces life, I will have to let go of my hand to let her learn from small mistakes. Each time I let go, I should offer my body and my hand to support her for her failures. I should be happy and proud of her when she finally reaches success.

I hope she’ll still be happy to learn things with me.

I guess this is one happy memory she will remember about me when she gets older.