Yesterday, my daughter gave birth to my second granddaughter.
And I almost got arrested yesterday.
I met this police officer at my favorite coffee shop.
One of those cops who rode huge bikes. As he got down from his bike, I was parking my jeep.
I guessed he came for coffee as I did.
“Your bike looks really wonderful,” I told him as he removed the straps of his crash helmet. “I’ve never tried riding a bike before,” I added.
“Pretty easy,” he said, introducing himself. “I’ve been riding a bike for twenty years as a cop. It’s fun and you move in quickly through the traffic if there is an emergency—like you need to get to a crash scene or something. And I have an even better personal bike for the weekend. A red Honda.”
“Looks dangerous to me,” I said, “because you’re traveling on two wheels and no side protections as in a car.”
“It’s not that dangerous,” he said. “Never had any accident in all my years as a bike cop. But I was telling my wife yesterday I’m going to retire. I’m getting old, though I still love the job”
I told him he didn’t have to retire yet if he was feeling good.
And he said “Oh no, I’m 64. You wait till you’re 64 to see how shitty your body would feel. I’m calling it quits.”
I told him, “I turned 64 a couple of years ago, don’t feel too awful, and I’m still not even considering retirement.”
He looked at me in disbelief. “True,” I said. “I’m pulling nearer 70 than 60.”
“You’re older than me?” he asked with mistrust in his eyes.
“Sure, by a couple of years,” I said, “Since you’re only 64. And I don’t look good compared to some of my friends. I’ve not been taking good care of myself, not drinking enough water and not eating fruits. I look pretty bad, actually.”
The suspicious look he gave me at that moment, I felt he didn’t believe me. He hesitated. I thought he was going to arrest me on the spot; that he was about to say, “Whatever you say will be used against you in a court of law.”
But he just turned without a word and strapped back his crash helmet and rode away.
He didn’t walk with me into the Starbucks to go get his coffee either.
I strolled into the coffee shop to begin writing for the day.
Then my daughter called me and congratulated me that she had just given me a new granddaughter.
Time is a horse we all ride. As we get off the horse, the next generations hop on the horse.
The picture shows my daughter, the mother who birthed only yesterday, with my two granddaughters.
May we look back when our ride is over and thank goodness for its kindness.