i had a terrible bicycle accident when i was seven years old. admittedly, i never really mastered the whole bike riding thing - mainly because i was self-taught. i can remember riding up and down our street and instead of turning the handlebars when i needed to turn around, i'd panic and just let the bike fall over while simultaneously trying to jump off of it. lots of torn jeans and scraped knees later, i eventually figured it out. it was a saturday afternoon. i was visiting some friends from school. twins. karen & kathryn. they were identical, but one was a tomboy and the other was girly, which is completely irrelevant. i didn't have my bike with me so i'm pretty sure we were taking turns on the bikes, going up and down the street. i remember thinking what a great job i was doing, as if pedaling up and down the street were some great feat. wind in my hair, smile on my face. and then, that dreadful feeling that i was losing control. gravel. pothole. darkness. total and complete darkness. it was the only time i have ever been knocked unconscious in my life. i came to in their bathroom, the twin's poor mother panic stricken trying to clean the blood of my face. only i didn't immediately recognize her because i had no idea where i was. i had no idea who i was.
when i came home all bandaged and bruised from that bike accident, if i'd had a father waiting for me, i would've likely curled up in his lap. a father's love could not have prevented that fall, but the depth of his love certainly would have compelled me to run to his arms and helped heal those wounds.