Doing What We Love

Every morning when we awake and get out of bed, there's a chance that we will not return when it's time for another sleep. When we walk out our door to go about our day, we may not return upon day's end. Life is fleeting and uncertain. That old adage, "Live every day as if it was your last" is cliche to some, but every day that little cliche means more and more to me.

 Lately, I have read so many Facebook posts and blog essays that describe the feelings of dread people experience after they have read or heard of a motorcycle fatality. In some cases, that dread clouds that person's instincts and makes them afraid. In the last two weeks, there have been two motorcycle accidents that resulted in two deaths not one mile from my home. I am sad for them, both the deceased and those whom have escaped death that day, but I refuse to live in fear of that death.

 I don't ride my motorcycle every day, but when I do, I back it out of my driveway, point it down the street, and drive away from my house with the knowledge that I'm going to have a good day riding. I know there's a chance that I will not come back home, but that does not prevent me from doing something that I love, something that I am passionate about.

 Last Sunday morning, a young, beautiful, vibrant 34 year old woman backed her motorcycle out of her driveway, pointed it down her street, and drove away from her house with the knowledge that she was going to have a good day riding. She did not return. She died doing what she loved.