It's Tough to Ride When You're Crying
The Zen koan of the spring is this: Did the ride happen if you didn't blog about it?
The answer is yes: 34 miles in about 2 hours, 5 minutes. But just in case, I'll tell you a little more here. I rode up Macarthur Boulevard to Cabin John, one of my favorite road rides. Frankly, one of the only road routes I know around here.
It's mostly on the road, although there's a path that runs along side. I usually ride the path, but I didn't have that choices today. The Avon Walk for Breast Cancer took it over.
The walk made me happy. I wish I had had a cowbell or an air horn to make a racket of support. (The wooting I did didn't really cut it.)
I kept thinking about my grandmother, Baba Berko. She passed away in March 2003. She had breast cancer, but that wasn't it. Apparently, it's not healthy to smoke for 25 years.
I can't help but think about her whenever I see any breast cancer event. Hers was the first major death in the family. I still remember exactly what I was doing when I found out. (I haven't eaten at Banana Cafe since then.)
I remember driving with my dad and brothers in the funeral procession. I don't know if it's a common tradition, but this funeral home always tries to drive past the deceased's home. They went surface streets, instead of the Kennedy, so it took more than an hour. At one point, my dad looked in the rear view mirror, and said, "Holy Cow!"
I looked back. Cars in the funeral procession were still turning the corner, four blocks back.
Everyone loved her. The day after my wedding, I stood in the kitchen with my mom, pulling out plates to reheat the Indian food on, and I found this one stupid plastic plate that my grandmother gave me. I've had it since college. My mom started crying, and said, "She still gets me, every once in a while."
I hugged her, and through my own tears, said, "The only thing I wish is that she would have been able to meet Libby. They would have loved each other."
Which is true. Which is why, as I'm riding past the women with the posters with "BOOBS!"writ large, I'm tearing up.
It's tough to ride when you're crying.
Replies: 0 comments