Yes, as announced in my last post, the Spouse had recovered enough from a short-term bad spell on Saturday that by Sunday, he was feeling better and actually encouraging me to get my Harley out of its winter slumber and go for a ride. He knows very well how riding soothes …

…my soul and gives me diversion from the stresses that caregiving brings on.

By Sunday afternoon, it had warmed to a Padded Langlitz Columbia kinda day. That jacket is warm and really heavy, but great for a Sunday ride under a brilliant blue cloudless sky in leather jeans and, of course, my favorite Chippewa Firefighter boots.

Before I took off, I checked my Harley sideways from Sunday (full T-CLOCS) and found that my tire pressure was seriously low, but no other problems. Not surprising with the bike being parked for so long in the back of my garage. However, I cannot reach my tires to fill them with air. It was hard as heck just to apply the tire pressure gauge! I know that sounds strange, but I just cannot get down on the ground any more. (Getting old sucks!)

Before I mounted my trusty iron horse, I remembered to do some stretches. My ol’ body doesn’t flex or bend like it used to, so stretching improves flexibility and reduces potential of cramping when I ride. (I also have to say, a prophylactic dose of Excedrin helps, too!)

I rode gently to my Harley dealer whose service department was actually open on Sunday! I know the Service Manager well. He took my bike right in and took care of my tire pressure issues quickly and with a smile. No charge.

While waiting for the quick service request, I wandered into the dealership’s display area. It was rather busy. Four of the members of my riding club were there, and we kibbitzed for a while. It’s nice to be known and treated warmly by everyone.

Soon enough, the Harley was ready. I did some more stretches, remounted my steed, and took off. I rode some 50 miles to nowhere … anywhere … roads were free of salt and muck and made great riding. Lots of other bikers had the same idea. I waved and waved and waved … and most everyone waved back (except those on crotch-rockets who don’t wave at anyone.)

I just let go, relaxed, enjoyed the warmth of my jacket absorbing the brilliant sunshine, and even catching the aroma of the warm leather. I put my boots up on the riding pegs, sat back, and truly, truly, enjoyed the nice, slow, country roads ride.

I returned home and saw the garage door open. I was kicking myself in thinking that I had forgotten to close it as I was leaving. The Spouse wouldn’t be happy. But then I saw The Spouse right there in the front. He was using a pair of snips to cut our first bunch of daffodils. We have tens of thousands of these deer-resistant flowers that are just beginning to bloom.

The Spouse handed me the flowers, smiled, and said, “welcome home!” I had taken off the Langlitz, so I grabbed a vest and posed for a quick, impromptu photo with the man-of-my-life.

It’s all good. Better. Relaxed, smiling, and peaceful. As it should be.

Life is short: caregiving for the caregiver is important and “wind therapy” works!