When I was 12, my dad bought me my first motorcycle. There is no doubt that my son dreamt that he too would get one someday. I also think that my dad silently watched from a distance and wondered when in the hell I would stop spending all my money on camera gear and buy him one. After years of thinking and talking, we finally did it. This years birthday gift was any boys dream come true. So this has obviously consumed a great deal of my ‘free’ time and explains why flickr has taken a back seat for now.
Dessert is no longer on the menu for dinner at home. Once he’s inhaled his dinner (even though we try to slow him down), the first thing he says is “Dad, do you think we can go out for a ride this evening?” Saying yes is easy as I remember how I felt when I was young and all I could think about was my red Honda.
I like to stop and take a break just to watch him go. There is nothing more rewarding to see the trill and joy in his eyes as he learns to ride. My son is a very sensitive child and when we load our bikes to head back home he never forgets to say in a sincere way, thank you and “I love you dad!”.
I also realize now, how my dad felt back then.
Thanks Dad, and I love you too!
Pierre
