I shook like a tree in a strong wind the first time I wheeled my Honda 360 Custom motorcycle out of the garage to ride solo. It was a bit bigger and a lot heavier than the one I’d learned on. I wondered if I could pick it up if it ever fell over. It would fall over. The way my life was going, it could happen any minute.

What did I have to lose? Besides my life, that is. I hopped on, kicked it into first gear, gently twisted the throttle, and tasted the freedom and power of riding my own motorcycle for the first time.

We rushed through pockets of cool and warm air – my bike and I. I breathed in the scent of pine and grass and was grateful for my full-faced helmet when we encountered an occasional quick whiff of skunk. We flew around curves and climbed into the hills, past fields and forests.  A motorcycle ride is a sensory experience unlike any other. Each bank into a turn is like flying on the ground.

My bike took me over train track bridges, wheels in the air for a few precious nanoseconds of flight followed by the satisfying thump of two wheels firmly on the ground.

We explored side roads, mountain roads and even gravel roads. We discovered a tiny airport with grass landing strips for glider enthusiasts. I’ve flown in one once. All I heard was the flap of the wind in the fabric as the pilot kept us aloft, soaring over German hills dotted with castles. I imagined how it would be to have that silence on the motorcycle. Dreamer.

We came face to face with a stag standing right in the middle of a narrow road leading somewhere. My bike purred, and perhaps it was that sound that mesmerized the majestic creature — head heavy with antlers. We stared at each other for several minutes, neither making a move, until he regally strutted into the woods.

I would drop my bike one day, and pick it up with a great deal of effort; but not until long after the shaking had stopped and the fear was gone.

My bike and I weren’t alone on those rides. God was with us. Each time I took one of the kids along, God was there, too. I imagine He enjoyed each ride as much as I did, and one day, He’ll be the One I see, face to face. He says so, in Psalm 84:5-7.

“And how blessed all those in whom you live, whose lives become roads you travel; they wind through lonesome valleys, come upon brooks, discover cool springs and pool brimming with rain! God-traveled, these roads curve up the mountain, and at the last turn – Zion! God in full view!” (The Message)

That’s one ride I’ll be happy to take.

I rummaged through bins in the garage, looking for the bicycle pump. Five-year-old Ashley shouted from the driveway, “Gramma! Look at me!” for the tenth time.  She skillfully twirled a pink hula hoop around her slender hips.

“You’re the hula hoop champ,” I said for the tenth time, and continued searching for the pump.

When I heard, “Gramma!” again, I looked at her. Ashley stood still with a solemn expression on her face. “You’re old,” she declared, as if I didn’t know.

I laughed and agreed with her. She’d said it a few times lately, as an observation. She’s a kid, and I’m old. So is Grampa. From her perspective, it is so.

Am I old, even though I consider myself a young-hearted grandmother? After all, Bill and I run our own business, travel a lot, enjoy an active social life, are actively involved with church and can still play with our grandkids.

So, Ashley, and all our grandkids, here is what old looks like from my perspective:

Old folks are bold. We have become more fearless as we’ve learned to trust God and face our trials. When we take your hand and lead you into an adventure, you can trust that we will give our all to protect you. We will stand with you, walk beside you, and help you as you face challenges of your own. We are your bold champions. You can trust us.

Old folks are not cold. We are warm with love for you. You can tell us anything and we will listen. You can ask us anything, and we will answer truthfully, as best we can. We may not always agree with you, but we will always love you. There is no limit to love. You can count on us.

Old folks are gold. Years of experience have refined us. Joy and tears, pleasure and pain, learning through studies and from mistakes, have worked out impurities and increased our worth. Just as you are treasures to us, we are your treasures. You should value us.

We may be old, but we want to spend many more years with you. We want to see you grow up and start your own family. We would love to be there when your grandchild informs you that you, too, are old.

I hope there are windows in Heaven.