Getting Ready to Roll

I don't know what happened this morning. I was just driving to work, singing along to the radio, and suddenly my mind was filled with such a clear and vivid memory of Haylee. It was like I'd just seen her yesterday. Vibrant, smiling, eyes sparkling with that mischievous look she got sometimes right before she was going to crack a joke.

And in a second, I was bawling... like fresh grief. It's an hour later and I'm still wiping my leaky eyes, as she would say. It's like it just happened. And boy, do I miss her. I miss her giggle, the sound of her voice, the vibrant way she moved through the world with grace and confidence even at 13 years old. I hate that she never got to grow up. I hate that her cancer was missed. I hate that her Dad doesn't have his little girl anymore. I hate that our family has a hole that is just...always there.

I just want her back.

But we can't have her back, so I will ride again this year, in hopes that my efforts will contribute in some tiny way so that another family doesn't have to feel the way I feel today.

I'm not ready for this ride this year. I haven't gotten much riding in since last year and I'm terribly out of shape. My body is not cooperating lately; tired, stiff, sore, out of place, many professionals trying to get me back to where I need to be. But it's just age, not cancer. I only feel old and tired and sore. I can only dare to imagine how Haylee felt as disease literally slowly took her life. To the very end, she kept pushing....right until her very last breath.

So in two days, I will hop on my bike and ride.

For Haylee.