Raising Bikers 

A couple days ago, I walked into a parking lot and saw my mom and dad’s motorcycle. I had no idea my dad was in the store. My mom was at work, so I knew he was there by himself. But I’d know their bike anywhere. 

I work part time  during my summers off and I started this week. It’s necessary for me to get out of the house a little every week. So when I saw my parents’ motorcycle, I knew my dad and I must have passed each other. 

I was happy my dad was out and about. His new found retirement looks good on him!

Motorcycling is something my parents have liked to do for as long as I can remember. And beyond. 

I, on the other hand, hate it. 

It’s all a balance issue for me. I’m terrified that I’m going to fall. And my depth perception isn’t that great. 

When I was in elementary school, my mom and dad had a side car put on their motorcycle so I could go with them. It was a blast! I liked it because it felt like my own go cart. 

I also discovered that as long as I stayed low enough, I could read in there! I was protected by the windshield just enough… Until one day, my copy of Hook flew out of my hands. 

If you’re ever in a position to be on I-75 north, shy of exit 202 in Michigan, I lost the book right before the curve. 

Poor Hook

That’s the only book I lost while motorcycle riding. 

My mom and dad are planning motorcycle trips and I can’t wait to see them travel. They’ve worked hard their entire lives and deserve to have some fun!

Another man was admiring their bike in the parking lot.

“Tell ’em another old dude was admiring it.” He told me after I engaged him in conversation. 
M parents were happy to know their bike was a source of afternoon envy. 

But what they all don’t  know is his much I admire them. 

Seeing them take off of their bike is as great for me as it is them. I’m proud of them, and I’m glad they are happy and healthy going into their retirement ages together.

They have a list of places they want to see. All I want is for that to come true. 

It’s hard to raise parents  these days, but I think I’ve done a good job. 

I can’t measure how much I love them and how proud I am. They deserve the best. 

I hope the man in the parking lot remembers that when he sees a couple out for a ride.

I told him as much. 


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