A few months ago, Mark came to me and said that he wanted to put together "THE FIRST ANNUAL POOPY-SQUAWK-NO-JOCK-SLOP CHARITY MOTORCYCLE RIDE". I've established that Mark calls me "Poop". I HAVEN'T clarified that Poop is short for "Poopy-Squawk-No-Jock-Slop". Don't ask me what that means. He just called me that one day and it stuck. Yeah. I'll thank him later.
So. We put together a charity ride in honor of me. Because I know many people that don't have motorcycles, I thought it might be good to do something that they could attend as well, so we put together a small lunch and gathered some DANG GOOD raffle prizes. The event planning began. Posters were made, a facebook page created, chili dogs ordered and raffle prizes gathered. I made really awesome t-shirts to represent the "First Annual OPCA Charity Ride".
I wish I could describe the experience. Provo bakery donated donuts, Fresh Market and Macey's helped with Orange Juice and t-shirts were at the ready for those that came to offer support. I wandered around my front yard. It was so important to me that I speak to every single person that showed. Around 17 motorcycles gathered at my house. My cooler-than-ever cousin Lee drove his car with the bikes and one of my favorite people in the whole wide world, Brit, put her kids in her vehicle and brought up the rear of the pack.
I thought I was handling everything like a champ. I didn't bawl or weep. I felt a thrill every time a heard a bike coming down the road and shed some tears as people showed to offer support. But all in all I think I kept my emotions in check. Until...
10:30 arrived and it was time for the ride to start. Everyone was going around the Nebo Loop then gathering with the bike-less supporters at the East Bay Golf Course for chili dogs and the raffle. I had decided to stay behind and do some last minute setting up and to greet those that showed up to the luncheon before the bikes made it back. I stood in the driveway while the bikers loaded up, Lee got in his WOW car (and I do mean WOW) and Brit loaded the kids in her jeep.
Suddenly bikes roared to life. The rumble filled the streets and I lost it. I mean LOST it. I cried like a little school girl. I watched as motorcycles loaded with do-rag wearing, sunglass sporting friends and family rolled out of my yard wearing a t-shirt to represent ME. Yep. Me.
1:30 rolled around and those that were gathering at the course began strolling in. We filled the "party room" with laughter and talk. The raffle began and we all cheered loudly at the prize-winning. My gaze fell on each table and I witnessed the smiles and the laughter. I was watching the festivities when it hit me. Hard.
A chill started in the top of my head, traveled along my spine and landed in my feet. I began trembling with emotion. That room was filled to the brim with people who love me. ME.
A few days before the ride, I was sitting at the golf course chatting with Mark. He had asked me if I was ready for the ride. I have been overwhelmed with the support offered to me and (as usual) I became emotional and with tears streaming down my face I said "Maybe I'm the lucky one." MAYBE instead of feeling bad about this stupid disease I need to turn it around and be grateful. How many of you are able to witness love and support in such a personalized setting? I did. So many people went out of their way to share a story with me about how I have touched their lives. I groaned when they opened the conversation with "Do you know my first memory of you?" I've been known to smack some of the kids upside the head (especially friends of my boys when they were younger). I'm always caught off guard with that opening statement. We laughed and talked and shared and cried and remembered.
And I was grateful for the stories.
I think about my future. I used to believe that I will eventually be able to repay human kindness and generosity shown for my benefit.
This last week has taught me that I probably won't.
I ran across a quote from Elizabeth Gilbert. She said:
"In the end, though, maybe we must all give up trying to pay back the people in the world who sustain our lives. In the end, maybe it's wiser to surrender before the miraculous scope of human generosity and to just keep saying thank you, forever and sincerely, for as long as we have voices."
So....
THANK YOU.
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