Training Wheels

I can still recall learning to ride a bike back on 40th Street in Camden, New Jersey. The other neighborhood kids were 1-2 years older and already were zipping around on their bikes climbing up driveways, rolling down the street, etc. But here I was on my little bike still with training wheels. My Dad worked long and hard as truck driver and he really didn’t have the time to teach me to ride so I tried to learn on my own. The other kids accepted me with my training wheels but I can still remember feeling so silly and ‘babyish” as I was the only kid with training wheels.

One day, the training wheels broke. I had to wait for my Dad to come home from work in order to fix them. It was a long day. The other kids were out riding their bikes, but I couldn’t. Mine was broken.

Dad came home after driving and loading trucks for 12-14 hours and was tired and dirty but stopped in the backyard and fixed my bike for me. But he also said, “This will be last time. I will fix it, but if the wheels break again, you are going to have to learn to ride without them or not ride at all. You don’t need them. I know you can do it.” Well, that warning had very little impact on me at the time. I just wanted to ride again with my friends.

As luck would have it, the very next day, the training wheels broke once more. And I suddenly remembered what my Dad had said, “You can do it. I know you can”.

So, I climbed back up on that bike and wobbled down the sidewalk. I fell once or twice but was determined to figure it out. And very shortly afterwards, I was doing it. No training wheels.

There have been about 100,000 more times (okay I am slightly exaggerating) where I was struggling in life and someone just helped me through a rough time.

I remember when Barb and I lost a baby early on in a pregnancy. It was quite devastating. We blamed ourselves, we blamed God, and we just simply hurt. The two of us were going through the stages of grief but at different times. Barb was so down that I thought we might need to get some help for her. And I on the other hand kept it all in. I felt like I was the ‘provider’ and needed to present a confident, reassuring approach for her. It was okay for her to cry but not me.

After about a month, the grief was almost unbearable. We were both hurting but I was holding it in. And then it happened, I snapped. In a fit of anger at God, I punched the wall and put my hand right through the plaster. It was quite shocking and my hand sure hurt! Barb looked at me and understood my anger and grief. She got up and came over to me and we just hugged and held on for dear life.

That night, I attended a small bible study in our community. I was present and listened but I hardly participated as I was still hurting so much. At the end, the leader asked if we could pray for anyone. I sheepishly raised my hand and told them that we recently lost a baby and that we could sure use some prayers. The group stood around me and just prayed for me and for us. I felt people’s hands on my shoulders and heard their words of sorrow and encouragement. Some later shared their own stories of loss and encouraged me to cry and to pray.

That night was a turning point in my grief. The other small group members were there to help me through a tough time. They cared, they supported, they encouraged.

As a business leader, I watched my associates deal with the worst things that life could throw at them. From losing children, to having fire destroy everything they own. There were cancer diagnoses, addictions, divorces and the like. There were and still are so many bad things happening to so many good people.

As their leader they looked to me for that same reassurance. They needed to know someone cared and they needed hope. I did the best I could but often felt like it wasn’t enough. I just could not take away all of their pain. I hurt for them.

As I look back on those situations now, I realize that my job wasn’t to take away their pain but it was to be there to help share it with them. And then it was to help them get back on with their life. In many ways, it was the same thing that my Dad or that small group did with me. They helped me through a tough time and helped me ride the bike again without training wheels.

Thanks for reading this.

With a goal to “help the next one in line”, Glen Cavallo, a 30+ year healthcare executive has chosen to share the many lessons he has learned with others. Glen does this by serving as a coach/advisor to leaders at all levels of organizations, as a board member and as he presents inspirational speeches at regional, national, annual and awards meetings.