“Ride Easy.”
Said the sign on the Wisconsin interstate. “Watch for motorcycles.”
For some reason I just loved that. I loved that the DMV bureaucracy’s Road Safety Campaign could come up with such a cool, kinda hip tagline. But more than that, “Ride Easy” spoke to me on a deeper level, in a bigger picture.
Life has felt so weirdly paradoxical lately … both chaotic and endlessly uneventful, with long days and then all of a sudden, weeks have gone by. There are times I feel “zen” and then other times I awaken with those anxiety attacks I had hoped were long past.
Ride easy. Yes, I love that reminder.
Ride easy, like a big-rig tractor trailer that our little two-door Ford Fiesta used to follow behind on a hot summer vacation road trip to the Southeastern seashores, to motels with sand perpetually embedded in the carpets and AC window units that dripped condensation – drip, drip, drip – all night long. But ride easy … yes, ride easy with my little brother in the back seat beside me, counting state license plates. Singing “This Little Light of Mine” and “I’ve Got Peace Like a River” from Vacation Bible School days (yep, preacher’s kids). My daddy catching blue gills from the ocean for my mom to fry up in the motel room kitchenette. The one “nice dinner” out at the local Howard Johnson’s. Squirming, trying to stand still while my mom slathered yet another layer of sunscreen on our shoulders and insisted we wear ridiculous sun hats on our heads. Watching out for my little brother as we jumped the waves and hunted for shells.
Ride easy, with my family by my side.
Ride easy, like a bird on the wind. Reminds me of parasailing over the Sea of Cortez in Cabo the summer before my oldest daughter started high school, a trip that was a blessed getaway from some big life stresses we were facing. The three of us – me, my 13-year-old and her 7-year-old little sister – signed up for a parasailing outing. While my eldest and I were excited, my little one was apprehensive … but the ride out from the shore was beautiful, the view of the coastline was spectacular, and the deep blue ocean was serene and calming. Until they cut the boat’s engine to buckle us into the belts, and she just lost it. Despite everything we did to reassure her, she was beside herself – deep, heart-wrenching, panicky sobs. Finally, we just looked at her and said, “You’re just gonna have to TRUST US, we promise it will be okay.” We held hands so tight our knuckles hurt — holding on for dear life!
Up. We. Went. And just as we promised, the split SECOND we swooped up high into the sky – where it was instantly calm, and quiet, and so incredibly peaceful – my little one looked at us and grinned through her tear-streaked face. Triumph over fear. Yes, watch out for little sister. Hold her hand tight. And yes, trust.
Ride easy, with my loved ones by my side.
Flash back to that Wisconsin highway, “Ride Easy” flashing on the highway sign. Ride easy, even if your blood is pounding in your ears and your heart is pounding out of your chest … ride easy, sit back, take a deep breath, let the wind lift you up and away … above the fray, above the noise, holding hands and trusting the ones we love.
Ride easy, girlfriends.