A little blue bike

Sometimes in life, all you need is to take a deep breath... and see life for what it truly is.

Yesterday, I took my oldest child to the bike shop. Now, if you know something about me, you know I love bike rides. For the past few years, I’ve had my oldest strapped to the back of my bike—riding through quiet trails, laughing at the wind, making memories with every mile.

Why?
Because being the greatest dad alive isn’t just a title to me. It’s a mission. It’s a promise I made the day I first held him. And in that promise, I knew I had to give him more than just rules and routines—I had to give him moments. Moments that would outlive me.

But now… he’s 4 and a half. He’s growing. The seat on the back of my bike? He’s outgrown it.

And just like that, the torch was passed to his younger brother.

For the past few weeks, I’ve been thinking... maybe it’s time. Time to get him his own bike. Time for him to ride next to me instead of behind me. Time for him to start building this habit—this love—for the ride.

So, on a random, spontaneous spark, I took him to the local Trek bike shop here in Oregon. I didn’t have a plan. I didn’t know what to expect. But I knew this mattered more than anything I had scheduled for work. Because I’ve made peace with something lately:

Work, at this point in my life, includes my children.
Their happiness is the job.
Their wellbeing is the mission.

When we walked in, his eyes lit up—brighter than any stars I’ve seen. That spark... that wonder... you don’t get many of those moments in a lifetime.

We ended up trading in his old bike. The one too small now. The one that carried the stories of yesterday.
And in its place, he picked out a navy blue training bike—his first real ride.

And without realizing it, I’d passed on something far more powerful than just a bike.
I taught him to let go of what no longer fits.
To make room for what’s next.
To embrace change when it matters.

It’s a lesson I’ve only recently learned myself…
And watching him embody it so naturally gave me a kind of joy that’s hard to describe.

Because life—real life—isn’t just made of milestones and achievements.
It’s made of moments.
It’s made of joy.
It’s made of that look on your child’s face when they realize they’re ready.

“Sometimes the smallest things take up the most room in your heart.” – A.A. Milne

Through all the chaos, through the pressure, through the noise of life—these are the moments we live for.
Because honestly… how many of them do we really get?

So live. And don’t just exist—live with love, joy, and intention.
Chase what sets your soul on fire. Build something meaningful.
But never, ever let that chase take you away from what matters most.

A small bike for a 5-year-old child might seem minuscule.
But that memory? That feeling? That smile?
It will outlast me.
It will outlive all of us.

Hooray. I posted twice in a week. This is a great start! Now I am going to work on you tube. Its great to be back!