So growing up, my parents were divorced since I was one year old. I really only knew my family life to be my step-father, my mom, and my dad. I don't remember it any other way and I feel fortunate to have had three parents to impact my life.
My father, he would take me anytime he possibly could eventhough I lived with my mom and step-father. We did all kinds of activities but one in particular was riding the motorcycle. Not just any motorcycle, but a Harley. I loved it. I loved feeling the wind in my face and being able to see all around me. I'd put my hand out and feel the wind against my hands. I remember when he'd start moving the harley or stop I'd head bang him ALL the time from sitting behind him. LOL. I wonder if part of the reason we rode it was to irritate my mother that hated it when he had me on it!
Well, this particular time we went to the park together. It was a beautiful partly sunny day out, around 80 degrees! I don't recall too much at the park except we went to the beach and just hung out for awhile. At least I'm pretty certain since for some reason we had towels with us on the motorcycle and it would be pretty odd to carry those if we didn't hit the beach. Anyhow, on our way home it started raining, pouring even! It felt like getting hit with millions of tiny needles! Dad pulled over and got out the towels from the little travel compartment, which helped since I had shorts and a short sleeve shirt on, but that rain, it still hurt as we drove. We stopped under a bridge finally, but we were both soaked and the stinging I remember stuck with me for awhile. wowsers!
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