Road Pickle Motorcycle Bohemia. San Diego has been a great place to visit, enjoy the beautiful weather, see some friends, and rejuvenate. But I'm itching to get back on the trail again.
Certain obstacles stand in my way and limit my freedom. I still own my home which I have rented and I also have on the market. I'm hoping it will sell before we leave So Cal again so I can be rid of that financial burden, as well as my obligation to my renters. I feel so responsible for them, mostly because they are family and they've done so much for me over the past couple of years to help me maintain my house so I could sell it. Now that time has come and I want to be sure to repay their kindness.
I recently found out that my daughter, my one and only child Olivia, is pregnant. She married the love of her life in April of this year, just days before we left on Road Pickle. After a visit with her recently we all learned that they are expecting. When I found out I was overwhelmed with joy and fear, all jumbled together.
This week I got an offer on my house for more than I had hoped to receive. I was thrilled and started making plans. The offer required my renters to move out in 15 days, only 7 days before Christmas. The family started scrambling to make it happen and I was thrilled about the money and finally being free of my anchor of a home.
Two days later the buyers backed out. I was crushed. It was nearly impossible to remember I was no worse off than before because I felt so tied down. The burden of maintaining this home was weighing heavier all the time. I want so badly to be unencumbered and this seemed to be my final stumbling block.
A day later I received a frantic phone call from my daughter. She was hemorrhaging and possibly having a miscarriage. Her husband rushed her to the Emergency Room and I spent the night in Highway's arms, crying myself to sleep in fear that my grandchild would be gone. After a few grueling hours came the news that the baby was safe, alive and still kicking, albeit my daughter had a terribly close call. She's still on bedrest for now, but it seems she'll recover and be able to maintain her pregnancy.
As the night wore on though, waiting for the news, the heavy pull to mount up on my motorcycle and ride to her bedside weighed heavily upon my heart.
"I should be there," my head kept saying.
My husband kept me sane and reminded me that Olivia's husband David was there with her now, and I didn't need to come to her rescue as I once had. The mothering instinct never goes away, nor the desire to help my child through rough patches, but at some point my need to belong only to myself plays a part in my decision making.
Just a few weeks ago I pondered the independence of riding in this article:
I am riding my motorcycle.
I don't know if you want something, how you feel about me, if I left the water running, forgot an appointment, or if you're trying to call. I didn't see your email, your tweet, your text, your post, your comment of your photo.
I'm busy and I cannot attend to anything but motorcycle, the road, and myself.
While this is true, at some point our obligations still find us and require attention. The only way I can see to eliminate this is to isolate myself completely from everyone, building no relationships, having no commitments; a step I have no interest in making. Between love and independence lies a balance I've yet to achieve.
Except with my hubs Highway. Our relationship was built on helping one another achieve independence while still maintaining a healthy dose of interdependence. We are together by choice, not obligation, not by outward commitments. Some times that frightens me, but it is the way I want to live.
What are you holding on to? What's holding on to you? Is it keeping you from finding yourself, your calling, your own personal road?