Year 4: Rolling

Year 4: Rolling

The day you left, my pedaling days were over.

You’d never be here again:

              to pick me up if I’d wandered too far,

              to push me or let me draft when I tired,

              to fix my flat or chain,

              to Bike to Work Day with me,

              to meet me for coffee off the path,

              to travel to the secret lake.

Thinking about the bike paths without you was so painful. So, the paths would have to go on without me, too. I retired that day your bike gained wings and took you. I could never again. Oh, the heartache!

Then, without warning - a Dream. You were there. We would ride together. Oh, the lightness of fun!

So - A new bike:

to get me as far as I want to go,

to take me to the secret lake and beyond,

to get and sip my coffee,

to visit the trees and birds and river,

to meander and paint and read and daydream,

Yes, MY kind of riding.

I am no longer afraid. The pain is no longer my enemy. In fact, the pain has transformed. I have transformed. I am a different woman – but more like myself than ever before. Oh, the irony!

On the path and in life - you are with me in memory and heart and dream. You are cheering me on. Still there for me. Still smiling. Oh, the dimples!

I’m not rolling forward because I didn’t have a choice;

I’m rolling forward because I have exactly that.

And I choose life. I choose to roll. I am free.

“One word frees us of all the weight and pain of life: That word is love.”
- Sophocles