My mom made me take organ lessons for 12 straight years.Focuz
Yes, the organ.
Yes, 12 straight years.
Well, maybe it was 8 … could’ve been six … but it sure as heck felt like 12.
I wanted to play the piano, but the woman loved a good Wurlitzer, so that’s what we went with. To this day, I have a quick and physical reaction to the first few chords of “I Just Called To Say I Love You” or “Gloria.”
So you’d think I would be very, very sensitive about NOT pushing my own agenda on my son, but that’s a line that I absolutely came close to crossing recently.
It was all about a bike.
He’d recently outgrown his toddler bike, and The Man and I thought it was time for him to try his hand at ditching the training wheels.
And The Boy seemed game, for the most part. Not overly enthused, but game.
We took him to a nearby school, raised the training wheels so he could get a feel for balancing, and set him free on the hardtop. So far so good.
10 minutes into it, he said he was ready to take the training wheels off. The Man lifted the bike into the back of his truck, removed the wheels with a few flicks of the wrist, and we headed for the grass.
We encouraged, cheered him on, told him there was no rush, and seriously, after maybe 45 seconds of his dad pushing him, The Boy yelled “Let go!” and took off, like he’d been riding all his life. We were overjoyed, and he was, too. Until he wasn’t. After a short while, he got off, and called it a day. Clearly his body was ready for this new milestone, but his heart just wasn’t into it.
Nothing inside him clicked into gear with an “Oh, man I had no idea what I was missing!”
Nope. He’d done what we’d asked him to do, and now he wanted to go home, and I couldn’t have been more deflated. We told him what a great job he’d done, and packed him up to head back, but I was bummed that he didn’t want to get right back on and ride.
He’s just not that kid at the moment, which is not to say that he never will be, and why I was having trouble with that, or putting pressure on him to take this next step, well, I just don’t know.
What I do know is he’s a boy who likes to walk barefoot through the neighboring field toting a backpack full of marbles and a stuffed blue dog. He likes to play “spy” with his friends and pretend he’s the real deal by flashing his secret service badge whenever he has the chance. And he’s convinced that some Hollywood director will call him after seeing his cool kitchen dance moves and ask him to star in his next big-budget film.
I love him for all that and so much more, and that’s beyond enough for me. And unless he says he wants to,
he will not play the organ.