Love. Life and death.

It has been a week that has left me weak.

A tough, kick-in-the-thigh-to-bring-me-to-my-knee type of week.

On Tuesday afternoon I was given the news that a friend and fellow rider had been killed earlier that morning. A single vehicle accident, he died doing something that he loved -  riding his motorcycle, and I like to believe that he was smiling from ear to ear, enjoying the cool morning air as it whipped past him, right up until the moment that tragedy reared it’s irrevocable head in a moment that cost the world a beautiful soul, that leaves our riding club with tears in our eyes, lumps in our throats, and a- chuckle-of-a-memory at times that we were blessed to share with a wonderful man.

Rest in peace, Swapnil. And find some twisties to show me when I get there brother.

There was to be a memorial of sorts at our weekly meet and greet this evening. I do not know how it went. I was not there.

I could not spend anymore time, or energy, around death today.

I spent all day with two different woman, each engaged in their own very personal battles to stave off that dark shadow.

Two woman whom I am honoured to call friend. Women that I love very, very much. Who each, in their own way, compliment my life in a manner that I could not have imagined possible a few short years ago.

Before i began to understand what it means to truly love another.

I used to think that love was dependant upon reciprocation.
I became free when I learned the truth. That love depends only upon the ability of one individual to connect with another. And I have been blessed with an ability to connect with people. And so, to love.

I have mentioned my friend Susie in a few previous posts. I have written of her current battle with the big ‘C’.

I have told you that I love her.

God I wish that were enough. I wish that the love that I have for this woman was enough to take away her fear.

Enough to bring her solace.

Enough to make everything okay.

But life is not that simple, is it? No. Not by a long shot.

Susie was in emerg twice over the last 5 days. A simple infection – something you or I would not give much thought to, in normal circumstances – poses a threat. And strikes a chord of fear.

I fucking hate this disease. And I know, so don’t you dare tell me to be happy it is not me. The truth is, I would trade places with Susie in less than a heartbeat if I could.

All that I can do, however, is to be there for her.

 And be there I will.

 For that is what love does.

I love you Susie.

I have not mentioned my other friend before today. And in truth I cannot say much yet, as I don’t yet know how much she will be comfortable with me writing about in my blog.

But I can tell you a little of what is going on.

After 30+ years, she has had enough. She cannot go on doing what she has been doing. She wants to change her life.

And she has reached out to me for a helping hand.

If you have never had a person whom you love come to you and ask you for help, then you can not possibly understand what a humbling experience it can be.

All the more so when you consider that at one time we were business partners, of a sort. Co-conspirators in the world of using and selling drugs. In the dealing of death. In the killing of ourselves. Slowly. And painfully.
Without the ability to care. Or to love. And barely even noticing life, all the while darkly wanting it to end.

 Somehow.

I have written about my moment of change. And my friends, I believe that this woman is there. I am excited – and even told her how excited I am – about the possibilities that lay before her.

About the life that she can have.

This is a story that I believe deserves to be told. And that you just may enjoy reading. So over the next few weeks, I am going to introduce you to my friend, this woman that I love. This soul who has reached out for help, and complimented me by asking me to grasp onto her outstretched hand.

For this moment.

I have grasped back. For that is what love does.

And I love you Mona.

I try to count my blessings on a regular basis. To keep me grounded. To keep me here, and now. To help keep me clean and sober.

These two women are blessings in my life. And I thank you God, for these, and all of the blessings in my life.

Good night fellow writers, readers and riders. And God Bless.

Throngs, and Thongs–PD13

 

I have never seen such a gathering of like minded people.

The sheer numbers that made plans, organized schedules, took time off of work, arranged to have bikes shipped overseas, set aside the weekend – all to take part in a one day motorcycle gathering event – is mind boggling.

The fact that over 150,000 people can all gather in one small location – most, if not all, people that can, in one form or another, be referred to as ‘bikers’ – and not have a single confrontation – not one issue, no matter how small – that required the attention of the very well represented various police agencies – is a testament to just how special this event is.

There were almost as many clubs represented by various ‘colors’, or patches, as there were different makes of motorcycle. From the family-oriented leisure riding clubs, like the club that I belong to – the CMC – to the brazenly outside-the-law clubs like the Outlaws, the Hells Angels and others – we all just seemed to be there for one reason, and one reason only. To express our love and appreciation for motorcycles, and the motorcycle riding lifestyle.

Some of the machines on display were pure works of art. Others, lifelong works of blood, sweat and tears. And most simply a representation of our personal expressions of freedom. And that seemed to be the underlying theme of PD13. Be who you are. Ride what you ride. Wear what you wear. We will accept you just as you are.

I think that mainstream society, by and large, could learn a thing or two from a gathering such as I was privileged to be a part of this past weekend.

A group of 10 or 11 of us rode from Ottawa to Brantford – and then Port Dover – together. In formation. Attentive and in sync. Like members of a really close-knit family. We enjoyed each-others company. We watched out for each-other. Ate meals together. And went in our own directions when it was time to do so. All with a smile – a wave – a kind word.

And why wouldn’t we. For as different as we all may be on the surface, deep down we are all the same. People pursuing, and expressing, our passion. Enjoying the freedom to do so, and encouraging the same.

I am proud to be a member of such a wonderful group as the CMC. It is a privilege to call you all my brothers and sisters.

Ride Long – Ride Free – RIDE.

Pictures from PD13 2012 found HERE.

Back in the Saddle Again,….

 

It’s great to be home.

I had 6 days to relax and unwind before starting work again last Tuesday afternoon. I spent most of that time with my friend Susie, attending to doctor’s appointments and just trying to be a friend during her ongoing battle with cancer.

I cannot think of a better way to have spent that time.

I learn so much about strength and perseverance from this woman. I watch her smile, and hear her laugh. And I cannot help but marvel at the way in which she is meeting this foe head-on, giving no quarter at rising to each new challenge.

I love, and honour you my dear.

It is also great to be back at work. I have been telling people that you know that you got what you needed from a vacation when you are excited to return to work. Of course, it helps to love what you do, as I do. Just one more area that I must acknowledge as a blessing in my life.

Of course everyone has wanted to hear a recap of the trip, so I have had numerous opportunities to relive some of those magical moments. I can still feel like I am right there in the middle of it as I show the slide-shows to people. I know that will eventually fade, but I am going to revel in it for as long as it lasts.

I have not yet even begun to work on any of the GoPro video footage from the trip. I will start on that in the next week or so, and hopefully have some footage posted to YouTube by mid-month.

I have a couple of exciting things coming up too. Next Thursday morning I am hopping back into the saddle and riding to Port Dover, Ontario for the Friday 13^th Bike rally.

Link to information found HERE.

There are a bunch of us from the CMC 011 heading down to southern Ontario, as well as many other CMC members from various chapters across Canada. With a population of approximately 6000 residents, this tiny little tourist community virtually bursts at the seams during PD13, as somewhere between 150,000 and 200,000 people are expected to show up, many of whom will cruise into town on their motorcycles. I have never been to PD13 before, so I am quite excited to check it out. The tentative plan is to camp at the ball-diamond / camp-ground, but there is a possibility of a motel stay – which will likely be my preference as I have a feeling that the camp-ground will be the location of a fairly large and well-attended party. Or two.

Which leads me to the other ‘exciting thing’ that is coming up for me. On Thursday, July 19, I am going to celebrate 6 years of being clean and sober. And this time, I am going to celebrate it at a meeting that is held at the homeless shelter where I work, amongst colleagues, friends – and maybe even a couple of people who are interested in change themselves. One never knows. Anyhow, I am pretty excited about this as well.

So I have caught up on some movies. Visited with mom and dad, as well as my older brother and sister. Gone on a couple of short scoots around the area – one of which allowed me an opportunity to assist a stranded rider on the 416. Seems he had checked his oil in his KLR650 before leaving Orleans – and forgot to replace the cap. When I rolled up on him as he was standing beside his bike just south of Brophy Road his pant leg was soaked through from the knee to the ankle with hot oil.

Ouch.

I gave the poor lad a ride back into town – to Goodtime – where he went about making the necessary arrangements to take care of his current dilemma. He was a young lad, and was quite surprised that an older fella on a big, loud cruiser was so willing to help out.

I merely pointed to my Madison (crest) and invited him to check us out, explaining that just about anyone in the CMC 011 would have done the same.

Have you sensed the underlying theme here.

Take a minute. Or an hour. Or even a day. And help a person out. Be a friend, in need, or indeed.

Connect. Be a part of….

I cannot begin to tell you how wonderful it is.

I will touch base after Port Dover.

Peace.