Life Shift

Two months before my mother's 68th birthday, she mentioned to my niece and me, that her neighbor rode her bike everywhere and she was thinking how much fun that would be. My response was, "Let's get you a bike!" whereas, my niece, who has only known her grandmother as an older woman responded, "Grandma, you'd never ride it." I watched my mother deflate faster than a slashed tire.
When my sisters and I gathered for her birthday, I remembered her previous wish. So while one sister stayed home to occupy our unsuspecting mom, my little sister and I set out for the bike shop. The variety of beach cruisers made us giddy. Should we get mom an electric pink bike with a flowered plastic basket? Or an emerald green with racing stripes? We settled on a bright red bike, embellished with white plumerias, and white wall tires that rivaled a Cadillac.
In the dark, I rode the bike home. As I passed the pharmacy, I had an idea. I purchased a string of Christmas lights. It was, after all, December 21st. Only after mom and dad were soundly asleep did we roll the bike into the living room.
About 5:00 a.m. the next morning I awoke with excited anticipation. I checked on the Christmas-lit bike. The next day, I learned my sister had done the same. When dad woke the next morning, he reported back to mom still in bed, "It looks like Christmas."
And so it was, but more for my sisters and me than anyone else. The five of us had made a life shift and in doing so my sisters and I had also fulfilled three of the four stages of life: 1. You believe in Santa Claus. 2. You don't believe in Santa Claus. 3. You are Santa Claus. 4. You look like Santa Claus.