Back on a bike again, riding around Daybreak
It has been almost twenty years now since that fateful day in the hospital when I had to tell my parents that we needed to pull the life support machine and let my sister go.
My brother and I were big mountain bike riders in our younger days. My sister got into it because of us, but road cycling was more her thing. I clearly remember the day she showed me her Gary Fisher road bike. So proud of it she was.
It was one of two possessions of her’s I wanted after she died. To ride it helped me feel closer to her in those first years after her passing. Eventually though it just sat in my garage, as the passing of time had me more focused on work, and less on enjoying what I truly loved. Each time I got in my vehicle though, I saw it and smiled.
A few years ago, my niece Crazylegs wanted a bike to ride as she and her boyfriend had moved into the Daybreak community outside of Salt Lake City, a wonderful little place full of quaint houses, lakes, and tons of trails for riding. I fixed up the Gary Fisher, got it a nice tune up, new tires, and put a big red bow on it for her Christmas present.
Being back in Utah this year for the summer, I asked her if I could borrow it to ride. I wanted that feeling again of being close to my sister. Last week I headed out to the Daybreak community to ride.
The homes reminded me of being back East, particularly in Martha’s Vineyard, off the Massachusetts coast. I biked a few times around Oquirrah Lake, both clockwise and counter clockwise, taking in the views of the Wasatch mountains as well as a few sprinkles of rain from the thunderclouds rolling in from the South. It was almost as though she was crying her lovely tears of joy, seeing me from above on her bike, doing what we both loved…
As I ride, I see children of all ages fishing the lakes, Adults walking hand in hand, parents watching from benches as their kids play in the sandbox and on jungle gyms. A wave of peace washes through me as I ride. I remember how comforting it is to ride, to feel, to think about the past.
Most of all, I suppose, I remember how to love.
