And I pass a semi-truck.
And Dan flashes in my brain.
Just a flash. Seeing him driving with his knees while he makes a turkey sandwich and talks to me on the phone. (Kinda scares ya, don't it?)
I kinda smile and go back to the minding my own business and listening to the radio. It is satellite and I have it on the Bridge or some such thing. I am more concerned with the Chevy that keeps speeding up and slowing down and the Kia that is so close to my bumper that I can tell the color of the driver's lipstick! (Back off, lady!)
And a Harley-Davidson motorcycle passes me. It is a man in full leather. Riding tall.
|Dan and I on his Harley. He hadn't finished putting on his leathers.|
My heart just does a little squeeze. He knew what he was doing and he was doing it well. So like Daniel.
Right behind that guy is a young guy on a small bike. No leathers. Hunched.
I am hoping his family never has to hear that he was scraped off the road.
I could hear Daniel screaming at him. Daniel was about being safe on the bike. He was about keeping everyone safe on the bike.
Somehow, even knowing that he was driving with his knees, I know he had every truck he drove safe.
Sometimes I dread driving anywhere. There are so many memories of him on the road. Every truck. Every bike.
I can't drive when I cry. So I just sorta smile.