My mom loves to tell stories and this is one of her favorites
It’s a brand new set of wheels.
But before we get there we have to start here with an old bike she got when I was a small girl
My mother used to love riding that thing.
Now that I think of it it must have been very freeing and therapeutic for her to ride.
She certainly had a lot on her plate
Living in a new country,
A less than ideal financial situation
She must have done a lot of thinking then on those long bike rides through our Santa Ana neighborhood.
On her bike route she would pass a tire garage on Fairview St. and as she rode by the men working there would stop and wave.
These bike rides continued for a few years until her divorce from my father when she immediately set out to find work to support us.
There wasn’t much time left for bike rides then
But I remember her working up to three jobs at a time.
In those years our family went through a few older cars.
The ones we had to squeeze into…
The ones that left us on the side of the road or required more work than they were worth…
It was the best she could do
But after a while of hard work and older cars,
she had saved enough money to get the car she really wanted.
Something more reliable.
A used Toyota 4 runner
This one was different. Not only was it big enough to seat our family comfortably,
she had saved for so long that she was able to buy it cash.
It was perfect…
All it needed was new tires.
You can probably guess where this is going.
Yup, she found herself at that garage on Fairview.
Pulling up all those years later
Remembering how she once rolled along waving atop that old bike.
And surprisingly enough they remembered her.
Hey! Said the owner… You used to ride by here on your bike!
Is this your car?
And beaming with pride she told him that it was in fact hers and she had paid in full.
You know that cheesy scene in the movies where someone gives an epic monologue and everyone claps? As unbelievable as those scenes are it’s what actually happened.
It really did and man, does she love that memory.
I’m sure many newer fancier cars had rolled into that tire garage.
I think this was different because they knew where she had come from. They were there.
So next time you see someone riding along,
You might meet them again someday and become a part of one of their favorite stories.
Which ultimate isn’t about the tires or even the car.
At the end of the day it isn’t about what you have.
It was about being able to look back on the road youve traveled and realize how far you’ve come
even if that journey began on an old bike.