Passings

Yesterday was my Manhattan Women's Thursday Ride.  A group of women, all ages, gets together each Thursday and someone has plotted a bicycle route in advance, and off we go!  Sometimes we mix things up just a bit, and spend a bit of time here (at a bike shop) or there (with a nutritionist) or even there (a garden spot) or there (a après-cycle coffee) and take in some extra-cyclicable (is that a word?) programs here and there.  Camaraderie!

Yesterday was so fun.  The weather was good.  (READ: Not too hot for this delicate flower, not too windy, just..right...)  The women are terrifically supportive and conversational and... just plain good souls.  Cycling camaraderie is THE BEST.  I came away from my morning so happy and fulfilled in all that is good in the world.  Again:  Camaraderie!  What a GREAT start to my Thursday.

Last night, I got word from daughter Claire that someone from Manhattan's cyclist community had been killed by a motorist on his 7:00 pm ride.   So sad.

Yes.  We know that cyclist. 

Unspeakably sad.  

He rode the Saturday "Pancake Rides" that we have done for years.


Mark Jilka.  One of nine kids.  I am happy to have known Mark.

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Today I was toodling about, doing errands, and a truck in front of me called my attention.  I can't tell you now what the truck was about, except that in my mind it was funny, and in my mind, it did so hearken to the sweet remembrance of my sister Barb. 

My older sister Barb. So ding-dong-funny.  And such a good sister.  Her comments and admonishments (albeit sort of oblique) were stellar in my becoming Mother of the Year. (Yes, right, kids?)

My sister Barb would have been 62 years old today, her birthday.  We would have played around in her pool and laughed about age today.  We would have planned all the coming year's holidays and any other family gatherings.  We would have laughed about wrinkles and gardens and our adult children...

Life.  Sweet life.