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A Proud Moment in a Mothers Memories

It is fall, September 1998. The mornings are cool, but the afternoons can warm to 50 or 60 degrees. I have just been laid off for the winter.  I do not have to get up early, but from years of doing so, it is automatic.  By 7:00 am,  I have drank two pots of  coffee while reading the newspaper.   I have hollered at the girls several times this morning to get out of bed.  They seem to have developed an attitude of  “make me.”  Due to my job, my girls have always had to get themselves up and off to school by themselves.  They have acquired a bad habit of hitting the snooze one too many times.  Olivia can sleep right though the alarm, without even hearing it at all. This morning is no different, the older girls are running late, the tension is high and the bickering  is constant.

In my house the atmosphere is ruled by PMS.  Bought in 1990,  my house has been girls only, four daughters,  and myself.  It is amazing some of the habits girls can acquire when there is no masculine presence.  It does not help that mom is often gone in the truck.  The bathroom door is always open.  Even if it is closed, you can still enter, just ignore the one complaining. Streaking from the bathroom to the bedroom or laundry room is not unusual.  It does not matter whose clothes you put on, just ignore the one that complains. 

Two of my girls are in high school, Olivia, a Senior, and Ester, a Freshman.   To catch the City Bus to school, they have to leave the house by 6:45.  It is too late for that this morning.  I will not get dressed and drive them. “What if I was working? What would you do then?”  They do not get to drive a car very often, due to the parking at the highschool. But when they do, they like to leave by 7:15 so they can get a parking spot.   The lot at the highschool only holds about 1/4 of the number of cars that are driven to the school each day.  My girls have befriended  the parking lot attendant, Bob. He has a special place they can park their motorcycles, when they ride.  It is a spot that is too small for cars.  He will save it for them.  If they ride the motorcycles to school they do not have to leave until 7:25, and that time is quickly approaching. It is not unusual for the girls to be running late.

 They will be riding their motorcycles to school this morning. Because it is somewhat chilly, they have to don the extra gear, which causes a hassle at school.  The helmets will not fit in the lockers, so they have to pack them around from class to class. In fact, just the leathers alone  fill their lockers.  To avoid the constant bickering, of two hurried teenagers that have no clue where they left their belongings from the last time they used what ever it is they can not find or live with out, I head for the garage. I will start their bikes and get them warmed up. You see, it dawned on me a few years ago, when I am not here, they manage to get off on their own.  So why is it that they can not get up in time, find their shoes, or books or homework, with out my help, when I am here?  It is best if I just ignore them. I think of the tree falling in the forest, if no one hears it, does it really even make any noise?  If I am not here, do they really bicker?  The bikes will run smoother when warm.

Olivia is riding a 1980 Kawasaki 750 LTD . She has been riding for over a year now. In the summer of 1997, I enrolled Olivia and her older sister, Amanda in the Motorcycle Safety Course.  Olivia completed the course and started riding a Yahama 360 that I had bought for myself several  years ago.   In June of 1998, I come across the Kawasaki for sale by the original owner.  It only had 14,500 miles on it.  Although the bike is too tall for Olivia’s short legs, she has been riding it, since.  

In the state of Montana, a youngster can get their license to drive at the age of 14 ½  if they take Driver’s Education.   Ester was in the 8th Grade when she took the Driver’s Education Course.   As soon as school dismissed for the summer, she was taking the Motorcycle Safety Course.  She had bought a bike earlier in the spring, a 1993 Kawasaki 125, in hopes of getting her motorcycle license.    Ester has been riding for only about 3 months, but already shows strong abilities.  She is a good rider, and she likes to ride.  She got to ride her motorcycle to school when she started highschool. 

Both bikes, being a little cold blooded, took some choke to get them running.  But as our good friend always says, “They are Jap Bikes, they will always start.”

Here come the girls on a run, all geared up, leather coats, helmets, gloves and heavy back packs strapped on. Still bickering, they hop on their bikes.  I open the garage door.  “I will go first,” spouts Olivia as she backs her bike out. It idles down and dies. 

“Not if I get a head of  you.” argues Ester on her way backwards as Olivia restarts.  I am standing here with a cup of coffee in my hand.  “You girls be careful, watch for the idiots. I love you!”
“I love you, too, mom. See you tonight.”  Olivia hollers as she rolls out ahead of her sister.

For Ester, it is not cool to have your mom standing in the alley in her house coat  while hollering things like “I love you.”  There are neighbor boys that play hockey with Ester.  They might see or hear this emotional garbage.  This is not cool, finally she utters a “Bye.” and hollers at Olivia, “I will beat you to the corner!”as she drops the clutch, spins the tire and races  to catch her sister.                               

I stand watching my girls ride west out the alley, the sun is just barely coming up behind me.  I am a proud mother.  I am proud of my girls, my bickering girls.  I am a lucky mother,  lucky to have this moment to reflect. I have a good life. I am the mother of  those motorcycle riding, bickering girls.  Me, an independent women raising independent girls, motorcycle riding, bickering girls. 

It is a beautiful Day.
I better go get dressed.
The house will be quiet now.
Thank you God. For my life, my family, my day.

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