Sunday, September 21, 2014

High(ish) Speed Happiness


"My mind was like the postal service three days before Christmas." Thomas Lang, The Gun Seller by Hugh Laurie.

What a perfect description of my brain. Only Hugh Laurie wasn't telling a story about a man with ADD. The main character was explaining how jumbled his brain was after receiving a concussion while getting his ass kicked. Same thing, right? Not really, but I reread it several times just for the chuckle. Ask anyone who has ADD/ADHD if they can focus on one thing at a time. The answer will most likely be no, except under certain circumstances, like hyper focusing. We are always thinking about what we did and what we have to do, and rarely are we thinking about what we are doing. The average person is a multi-tasker. An ADHD'er is a multitasker that is really bad at it.

Now, let me tell you about my motorcycle. It's a Yamaha V Star 650, cruiser. Top speed is about 83 miles per hour. Not too terribly exciting unless it's your first bike and you are the one riding. It's step up from the TW 200 that I've been riding for a few years, and it's a great beginners street bike for a woman of my stature. It will satisfy my need for adrenaline and adventure for, oh, another year or two, or until A) I get a bigger, faster bike. Or B) I go down at a high speed and kill myself (someone knock on wood).
I've always considered myself to be an excellent driver. I do it for a living after all. While at work I see a lot of automobile accidents. Friends, every time you get behind the wheel you are risking your life. Right now you are saying "I know, I know", but you don't know the way that I know. I see dead people. Well, I have, not regularly, but enough. Last week I saw a car that had jumped the cement barrier of the freeway. A few weeks before that I saw a motorcycle on State Street that was almost unrecognizable after t-boning an SUV. In both cases the ambulance was in no hurry, indicating that whoever they were there for was already dead.
When I was 18 years old I saw a dead man with no face, the road had removed it for him as he slid across, after rolling his truck. I was the first person on the scene. A police officer had asked me to stay put until he could come back and ask me questions, then went off to help the paramedics with the second man, who was still alive. I stood there on the side of the road and stared at the dead man with no face. I had nightmares for years. I can clearly see it in my mind, still. And when I drive the road between Beaver and Minersville I can still point to the exact spot where it happened. I found out later that he had been drinking and driving.
So what I'm getting at is that the road is a dangerous place.
It's dangerous and I have chosen to drive on two wheels as often as possible.
The risk is so high when you ride on a motorcycle. Objects in the road become much more hazardous. Chunks of tire, a ladder fallen off a truck and left in the lane, even a squirrel running for it's life, all become dangerous objects that can end a riders life in the blink of an eye. Then there is the stupidity of other drivers. On a motorcycle there is no protection. If I go down I fall victim to physics; gravity and inertia.
This past Friday I was cruising through a canyon, leaning into a curve, taking it just a little faster than  my comfort zone would like, just because that's how I get my adrenaline pumping, and I thought to myself, was I happy before this? Could I have possibly been happy before I got this bike? I'm sure I was, but my short-term memory had to argue. The reality of it is, when I am on my bike I am THERE. I am present in the moment. I no longer have a scrambled brain without focus. While riding I am aware of all of the dangers. I put my favorite music in my ears, hit the road, and my mind clears. I am living in the Now, the freedom to just BE. All nerves are alert, reflexes are ready, eyes see everything exactly as it is right now. I am focused on many things all at once that equal one thing as a whole. Life. Survival. It is beautiful and it is rare and I am addicted.




Sunday, September 7, 2014

A Different Kind Of Heartache

As parents we will do anything to ease the pain of our children.
Every maternal instinct I have screams to me to make my oldest child's life easier. It's so hard watching him from a distance. Watching  him make his own way in the world. Watching him struggle with his insecurities and trying to find where he belongs. I want to wrap my arms around him and bring him back home where I can feed him and do his laundry and take away all the heartache that he has and will endure.
I am also aware that there are some things I just can't do for him. By helping him I would be doing harm. Every baby bird has to leave the nest. If the mama bird kept letting the baby return to the nest whenever flying became difficult, the baby bird would never learn the skills necessary for survival.
I have absolute confidence in Tristan's ability to survive. He's tough, he's smart with money, he's a hard worker. He's likable and funny. He's got this! He can do it! But when he calls me and I hear sadness in his voice all I can think about is him at 6 years old with his arms wrapped around my waist, telling me he will never leave me. If I allow myself to move through the memories of the years I will also remember Tristan at 15, 16 and 17 years old telling me with regularity that he hates me and can't wait until he can move out. Rough years indeed. Now, at 18, he once again wraps his arms around me and tells me he loves me. The ache in my heart is probably from the loss of the little boy that was.
He's right on the edge of truly discovering the freedom of being an adult. With opportunity and guts he can do anything he sets his mind to. Every day I cross my fingers that he explores the world as a single male before he finds a girlfriend.
Sigh.....this parenting thing is harder than I ever thought it would be. The rewards have been infinite and, if given the option, I would not go back and change the path I took that lead my boys and I to this day.
I remind myself that we all had to do it. We all left the nest and soared. Tristan will soar. I pray every day that he soars high, higher than I ever did.
Tristan will succeed. And every step of the way he will be calling to tell me about it.

Nobody said it was easy 
No one ever said it would be this hard
~ ColdPlay, The Scientist
 Please, don’t worry so much because in the end, none of us have very long on this Earth. Life is fleeting. And if you’re ever distressed, cast your eyes to the summer sky, when the stars are strung across the velvety night. When a shooting star streaks through the blackness, turning night into day, make a wish. Think of me. Make your life spectacular, I know I did.
~ Robin Williams in the movie Jack