Goodbye, dear friend

I feel as though it is the end of an era for J and I.

Yes, our non-parent lives are coming to an end, and I think we're both fine with that idea...not that it will always be easy, but we're able to accept that things are changing. The one thing I didn't see coming was the loss of our beloved Harley.

It does make sense, and fiscally responsible J was correct in suggesting that we sell it. We won't get a lot of time to ride it, and as it ages, its value will only depreciate; and we could really use the money...We paid it off before we started house hunting last spring, so it's interest-free. To be honest, we haven't ridden it a ton in the past entire year. After J's accident neither of us had the time or inclination (or ability) to ride for a while. Then we got the house and started devoting a lot of time to it. The weather seemed to be ridiculous this year; every weekend involved rain for more weeks than I can ever remember. Ironically, we had so wanted a garage so that we could simply pull away on the Harley without squeezing it out from behind my car in our condo garage, and having to painfully maneuver it back in.

I think, more than all of this, it's just hard to let go of it for sentimental reasons. To get this story straight, I'm the one who is having a difficult time with it. J is not sentimental of material possessions, and I wish I could say the same for myself. It's just represented so much to me. We wanted one so badly, and planned and talked about our future together, and a Harley was in it. We worked hard to save money. We bought it together, in the first combined credit purchase we'd made, and the largest until the house. I remember that exciting day at the dealer, and the feeling that our dreams were materializing. Then to ride, and enjoy the beautiful weather, and the sights and smells of everything around us was so exhilarating. It felt like freedom.

It was so fun to customize the bike; picking out the accessories with great care and admiring them was another part of the personalization and personification, if I may, of the bike. And then there were our own accessories: the jackets, boots, gloves, t-shirts and more that we bought, gifted, were given.

The joy of being able to want something and then to have it, the very adult feeling of saving and spending money as you choose, and the (also very adult) twinge of sadness when you make the right decision, and that decision involves saying goodbye...these are all things that I have felt and will continue to feel in life, this I know.

I know that if we're in a place in life where we want one again, we can just start over. Perhaps we'll want something else; something more comfortable for our older behinds, or something with a stereo... but right now, this Harley, which has represented so much for us, needs to move on to someone who will love it as much as we did, but ride it more.

Still, it feels like a sad, harsh reality that we have to move on, to other things, or to eventually start over. There will be an empty space in our garage and it will make me sad for a while. As excited as I am about things to come, I so appreciate the opportunities I've had, the experiences, and yes, the things. This motorcycle has nothing but fun memories attached to it; about how many things can you say the same? I'm so thankful that we were ever in a place in life in which we could experience what it was to own one, and I will never forget the feeling of riding...

:(