Hog Heaven

The women of my family are quite adventurous.

My grandmother had a pilot's license as a young woman. Can you imagine being an unmarried woman in the nineteen thirties, telling your immigrant parents you want to fly airplanes? It was unheard of, but she did it. And she loved every second. Even in her last years, she loved those precious memories of flying. I recently held that pilot's license in my hands, and it brought me to tears.

GaGa, my mother, has always dreamed of her own motorcycle. To be exact, she's dreamed of her own Harley Davidson. This Saturday, she made that dream come true when she purchased a brand-spanking-new 2009 Harley Davidson Sportster 1200 Low. It even has silver and light blue pinstripes. And a windshield so she won't get bugs in her teeth. (She's still a girl, after all.)

We went to dinner Saturday night to celebrate. During dinner, my sister and I were discussing the brave women of our family. I mentioned that, in my case, the proverbial apple fell far from the tree. I am not brave.

I. am. scared. of. everything.

But Rachel imparted a little wisdom to me Saturday. Being brave and being strong are not mutually exclusive. I've been strong in my life. I've overcome a very humble beginning, and made a success of my life. I've left comfortable jobs to start new careers. I'm strong in my faith when the world does not always agree with me. I've survived infertility and IVF. I gave birth! I work hard to be a good mother and a good wife. I try to put my all into everything.

I've done many things when I was scared to death, but I persevered. And I guess being terrified, but pushing ahead anyway, is brave in its own right. At thirty-two years old, I've just had an awakening. I AM another in a long line of strong women. BRAVE, strong women.

Thanks to the women who came before me for paving the way. I love you all. Ride on, Mom!