To the Mom Behind the Wheel…

Yesterday, it was hot outside. The kids had just finished up an all day playdate with their cousins and were on the verge of a late afternoon meltdown. They wanted to go for a bike ride, but I wanted to start dinner. I could feel the situation escalating and was silently cursing myself for turning off the air conditioning. The slight breeze that I saw ruffling the leaves on the trees that morning had done nothing to cut through the humidity.

My husband walked in the door just as the kids started to lose it. And in that moment, I decided dinner could wait. I wasn’t sure that a bike ride would fix anything, but at least we wouldn’t all be stuck inside. We got our bikes out of the garage and strapped on our helmets. As I waited for my husband to latch up the gate, I reminded our kids about “the rules”.

Always wear your helmet.

Bring a water bottle.

Look both ways before entering the street.

Listen.

Pay attention.

Ride safely.

Don’t fight.

Have fun.

Rules stink, but rules keep us safe, especially when your children are only a few years apart and have entered the “Don’t touch me, I’m not touching you” stage of siblinghood. So we got on our bikes and set off for an adventure. My husband always takes the lead and we sandwich our two children in between us with me bringing up the rear. This way, an adult is always watching because we live on a pretty busy street and we like to err on the side of caution when bike riding with our kids.

At some point, my husband stopped to help our daughter navigate a bumpy section of the sidewalk and I swapped places naturally with him. As I led our little pack down the sidewalk, watching cars flying by on the highway, I was feeling pretty grateful that we had sidewalks to ride on. As the corner approached, I called over my shoulder for my son to follow me on the dirt path. It was rush hour and the street was way too busy for them to drive down the sidewalk properly and make a right hand turn onto the safer side of the street.

Unfortunately, my son didn’t hear me. His day had been a long one. His day had been a hot one. His day had been full of playing. So he had checked out for awhile and was happily day dreaming…

I looked up just as the car turned the corner and my son careened right off of the sidewalk and straight into her path.

And in that fleeting moment, the world stopped. I remember feeling like I was stuck stupidly on my bike and just as I screamed, my husband yelled his name.

And the driver, God bless her, stopped.

She was paying attention. She was not texting. She was not talking on her phone. She was present and paying attention. And because of this, she saved my son from a horrible accident. One that surely would have put him in the hospital because he was going way too fast and was riding directly in her path.

Her, being present, saved my son.

I do not know this woman, although she probably lives in our town. But I wanted to thank her for slamming on her brakes. I wanted to thank her for being present. I wanted to thank her for following “the rules”.

And I encourage all of us drivers to follow her lead. Because no matter how many parents teach their children about bike riding safety, you never know when a small child will dart out into the road, and if you’re not present, their outcome may not be as good as my son’s.

So thank you, neighbor, for driving safely and being on the look out for our children.

Sincerely,

Denine

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