YouMotorcycle

Greatest Motorcycle Memory

For my Dad, who said – among countless other words of encouragement – “That’s a great site!”
This post is just for you.

My father hasn’t been permitted to drive for the past few years on account of having had brain cancer, leaving him prone to potential seizures. He beat his brain tumor only to be hit with cancer in the central nervous system in his spine. This isn’t a sad story. Au contraire, it’s my answer to not only what was my greatest motorcycle memory of 2011, but also a day I will remember forever.

Whether I’m struggling to keep up or stuck on the fence, my father’s opinions and thoughts have always weighed heavier on my scale than those of most others. It was in one of those “I-need-my-Dad” moments last year that I asked him about my moving out of the house. I wasn’t sure how I felt about it, I wasn’t sure about an apartment I was considering, and I’m not afraid to admit I needed a little help from my dad.

My father said “Sure,” when I asked him if he would come see an apartment with me. Then he asked how we would get there. With my mother being out of town and neither of us legally able to drive, I suggested the bus. My father said something like “Well, I guess we could take your motorcycle.” These words could only have been said with my mother far out of audible range, and talk about lighting a fire in my little heart!

Dad strapped himself into one my oversized helmets (it turns out my head is bigger than his after all) and off we rode off on a short short, uneventful little ride. My parents had been very critical of my deciding to ride a motorcycle as a teen. I was ecstatic and proud when my father a cancer survivor said, albeit with much more class, “Screw it, let’s ride!”

In 2011 I graduated from university with a Bachelor of Commerce, got my first full-time career job (in the two-wheel industry no less!), moved out into the apartment my father helped me choose, and even adopted a BikerPup, but my greatest moment was taking Dad out for a ride on a little motorcycle named Speranza (Hope). That was the best day of my life.

I love you, Dad. Keep on fighting, I’m in your corner.