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This old gal…
Rode her bike everywhere back in the day…got a Schwinn for her birthday…the banana seat glittery orange…little me toodled around town…to the pool…the park…the grocery store…that bike…a means of escape…to a friend’s once…running from an episode…a spell…a fit…or whatever…little legs pedaling that bike…pumping with fervor…tears flying with the wind… Remember little me…praying…for that dad of mine…to come to the rescue…save me…be my hero…little did she know…that man she called dad…was fighting demons…of his own…athletic…good looking…valedictorian…all state baseball catcher…died at the age of 40…complications of diabetes…and alcohol… Forty…FORTY…his daughter…was 14…the age…where she might be old enough…to get to know him…as a person…really know him… It’s been said…a few months before his wedding…this man called dad…found his own father…in a barn…gone…from suicide…something…they said…changed in him that day…depression…it’s been told…became his worst enemy… The fantasies of a little girl…searching for a hero…someone powerful…someone courageous…someone strong…the reality of this old gal…realizing that that hero was there all along…in her brothers…her grandparents…that uncle of hers… And in that little girl…on that bike…those legs pedaling so fast…the power of determination…never ending resiliency…and the strength…to never…give up… And this husband of mine agrees…
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This Old Gal
Devoted Wife Magical Mom Retired Teacher Embracing life's grand adventures with humor and grace. Archives
April 2026
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