About a year ago, I had one of those moments. I was so sick with a blood disease called Lupus I thought it was the end. After all, I was in a hospital bed set at permanent recline. I had the blood tests results. I had even went for that trip to the doctor where you get a BIG script of heavy duty pain pills and the speech about having a good life.
I left the doctor that fateful day sick as I could be. I passed my old r3\ed bicycle as I went thru the door. The bicycle I had bought at age twentyfour for my first bike. At twentyfour I had been soo healthy. I had rode any and everywhere I wanted. As I passed that bike with the giant bottle of pills in my hand, the bicycle caught my eye. It seemed to shout "Here I am," as I struggled thru the door. I came home prepared to put my affairs in order and literally get ready to die.
The bike seemed a sign of all the things I was readyto leave behind. I had left it out in the rain and elements for at least ten years. The seat sagged from rot. The chain and all the chrome was rusted. Wheel rims covered by two very aged tires. Weeds grown higher than the handlebars. At the time, I just sighed and went non by, convinced that I would never ride that bicycle ever again, for had the doctor just told me"Just go home and get you life in order?"
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