Bling

My first full season on the moto was exhilirating. Like a kid at Christmas who just received the toy most coveted, I wandered everywhere I could. As much as I love flying on the expressway, my favorites are riding through the countrysides and stopping at the small towns. People actually wave at you-without representing gang signs; wow, what a concept!

That first year I started the habit of picking up bracelets at some of those small towns. I was drawn to the wonderful, rich colors that captured what this new found freedom meant to me. I was alive! And for the first time I was enjoying life. But this enjoyment was short-lived. As soon as the moto went home, I was back in my self-imposed shadow box. I found that I could wear the bracelets and capture a moment of that freedom and the sound they made as they danced in the wind as we explored the countryside. Of course, I couldn't just wear one. I wore them all; adding each new one to the bunch as I rode.

But my favorite isn't as fancy as the rest but is the most worn. It's already missing a bead; torn away by the winds and probably resting in a cornfield (or inside a crow's belly). It is my No Regrets bracelet.

While riding through a small town, we noticed an old victorian home with a shop sign in its lawn. It was a beautiful, old building, with great vintage things on its lawn. The interior was set up with various antique items and manned by a wonderful 90 yr old woman sitting in a rocking chair. Her eyes lit up when she saw me and she said, "Oh, you're on motorbikes, aren't you?" We said yes, and my hubby-to-be, told her that I rode my own. She was thrilled and her eyes sparkled as she told  me that was wonderful and to always live my life to its fullest. Then her eyes clouded over and in an almost-irritated voice she said, "A boy asked me to take a ride with him on his motorbike once, and I said no. It wasn't proper. I regret that. I should have lived." I eventually bought the bracelet so that I would always remember her.

As I was leaving she said, "Remember, don't have any regrets."

And it's what I'm using as a guide for the rest of my life. When I'm sitting in the rocking chair at 90 I want to look back and remember those times I lived. I don't want to be remembering the times I worried about bills, or jobs, or nonsense. I want to have stories to tell - assuming I can still remember them.

 And if nobody wants to listen...I can amuse myself.