My new Bandito(a) not sure yet, needed registration and I spend a morning last week at the local DMV. Earlier, I scanned the online site only to discover that I was unable to do anything “online” and appointments were about 3 weeks out, so I saddled up to the counter of the DMV, filled out my paperwork and was given the number B37. I felt like I was playing bingo, as they called B18. I knew I might as well settle in. I had a book with me, but being ADD, there was no way to not read the same paragraph two or ten times as I kept getting distracted by the going on around me. I am a sap for overhearing conversations and people watching!
As I fidgeted in my seat watching the never ending screen call out every letter of the alphabet but B, I couldn’t help but notice a tiny pretty women enter the office with her handsome husband. She was over dressed for the DMV in the sea of sweatpants, and looked stunningly beautiful. She wore a gray knit sleeveless dress with a matching lacy cover and high heeled sandals that complimented the entire ensemble. I watched as many of the male eyes gazed over the flower of her glow. She kept pacing looking for a place to sit as if in a game of musical chairs. Finally the seat next to me opened up and she sat. She smiled at me, and asked about my attire, as I was gracing my full leathers, though my coat had been stripped and relegated to the floor in a hot haste. I told her I rode a motorcycle, hence the attire. She proceeded to tell me why she and her husband were there as he too was about to become a licensed rider! He was getting his first motorcycle license for his new mid-life crisis Harley (her words not mine). That began the conversation.
When I asked if she was planning to ride with him, she told me she had been diagnosed with breast cancer, had both breasts removed, was mother of three lovely children age 5-12. I was surprised about their ages as she herself didn’t look much over her 20s. She told me she might as well do some riding after her husband had ridden some miles and felt confident with a passenger, although this tiny woman would probably be less stress on the back of one’s bike, that the average tail bag! Anyway, I was humbled by the conversation. She said she felt free with no breasts. I couldn’t imagine.
She too was beginning to fidget and decided to go outside and wander. I smiled and bid her farewell and good luck and watched her drift outside into the land of screaming children and cigarette smoking people, awaiting room to enter the DMV and attempt to do business. My number was finally called and I did mine.
This brings me to the fact that each one of us, needs to support Breast Cancer Awareness and the fact that surrounding all of us are people just like this beautiful glowing woman, who are victims of this horrendous malaise. Please do what you can to support foundations like Susan Komen for the Cure. Or participate in studies from Army of Women. Let’s try to see a cure in our lifetime!
My mother is a survivor…hats off to her!
