Riding a bicycle

So, I have started reading “The Inexplicable Logic of My Life,” by Benjamin Alire Sáenz. In it he talks about “Words.” As he is talking about the word ‘Funeral,’ I have a flashback to my brother’s funeral. It was after the funeral mass that I broke down and cried. Before then, it just didn’t hit me that he was gone. I guess, I just bottled it up until I could no longer hold it in.

My brother was good to me.

He taught me how to ride a two-wheeler bike. Before then, I don’t think many people thought that I would be able to ride a bike. He was my hero that day. My being able to ride a bike, meant that I had a new way of getting around (besides walking that is). I think my dad was proud too, because for Christmas that year, I got a cool bike with shocks on the back. It was way cool, and all the other kids wanted to give it a go.

My being able to ride a bike expanded my universe; it allowed me more freedom to move around.

My brother also, took me for my first driving lesson. It was only around the court a few times, but he let me park it too (I didn’t do too badly at parking either). It was way cool. Unfortunately, he lived up north and I never got another opportunity to drive again. That was too bad. Perhaps I would have been driving as an adult, if things had of been different. Oh well, you can’t change the past. Besides, my eyesight began to worsen, so perhaps, in the long term, this was for the better. Still, it was nice that my brother believed in me, so much.
—Robert Confiant 11 November 2017






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