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Monday, July 10, 2006

Fear and Loathing in Fresno

A strange phenomenon occurred some 15 years ago. Somehow, during the process of becoming pregnant with my oldest child, I was also implanted with another seed. The seed of fear.

I realized even then that something had changed. I was afraid for my own safety in a way I never had been before. I saw danger in everything. Climbing the stairs, driving too fast, eating food too far past it's expiration date. I assume that it's natural for any mother to have fears surrounding the safety of her child, even beginning with the knowledge of conception. But, I'm talking about fear for myself, not fear for my child. Of course, I have that. I have a seemingly bottomless well of horrifying images of things that "could" happen to one of my babies. I try not to drink of that dark water, but it's there, nonetheless.

What brought this to mind recently was a simple trip to the movies Friday night. Bookem took me to see The Devil Wears Prada, much to my surprise. I read the book, so I was excited to see it, but was completely taken aback that he 1) wanted to see it too and 2) wanted to see it enough to forego both Superman Returns and The Pirates of the Caribbean sequel. Wonders never cease.

He invited another couple to join us at the last minute. These are new friends of ours. He met the husband through a mutual friend of theirs and we had them over for dinner some time back so I could meet the little woman. The thing that bonds these two men? Motorcycle Love. Not as fun as Monkey Love, but more appropriate for two men, I suppose.

So, I really shouldn't have been surprised that transportation on our double date was to be provided by "the bikes". Now, I grew up riding on the back of my Daddy's motorcycle. And I loved, loved, loved it. I can remember begging him, in what I now realize was an insufferable way, to pleeeeeease take me for a ride whenever we spent the weekend at his house. I also remember how much my mom hated that thing and hearing that I'd been out riding again. A pain I fully understand now that Bookem has taken Queenie to the store on the back of that thing twice now.

What did surprise me was how scared I was. I was never scared holding on to my Daddy's shirt tails, wind whipping in my face, screaming "faster, faster!" Now, all I could think about was what would happen to my kids if something happened to me. And how if something happened, it would be something totally horrific. Because motorcycle accidents rarely turn out well for the passenger. Or the driver, for that matter. Especially on the highway.

I considered that I was scared because I just don't trust Bookem all that much. He doesn't have a ton of motorcycle experience under his belt yet, although you won't hear him telling it that way. And he did just dump another bike a little over six months ago and dislocate his own shoulder. But, really, that's not it. It has to do with my fear of leaving my children on their own and it began the day I got pregnant with Pokeboy. I think about bad things happening to me in my car, in my house, at my job, with my health, etc. It's not a certain set of circumstances that causes it. It just is.

I guess with the motorcycle, the feeling is just amplified because I really have no control over the situation. And situations where I'm not "at the wheel" of my own destiny bus really freak my shit.

posted by *******DIANE******* @ 10:14 AM

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