# Chapter 188

90 miles or so on the motorcycles today. In February. Unbelievable. And I really needed those miles after getting the news that another close friend had died. Cancer. 47 years old. We had worked together for over 20 years. She fought cancer for a whole year and . . . lost. The world is emptying out of all the great people we know and love it seems some days. Yeah I needed that 90 miles. And could have ridden another 90 easily.

It was easy to go back through a mental picture log of our years together and all the memories we have of her while cruising along on an incredibly warm February day 5000 miles away from where she died and where we worked together for so many years. The motorcycles bring that kind of mood on in a good way. It is its own kind of therapy, the reason I got the bike in the first place. Back then I needed therapy most every day, now just occasionally. Yesterday was one of those days.

We all die, I get that, but why I am never prepared for it when it comes to friends and family?