It’s almost Shabbat – 2 hours to go. I’m very ready. It’s been a long week. Ben and I returned yesterday from a three day backpacking adventure in the North, from Naharia to Tzfat (safed). It was amazing. I woke up this morning and was pleasantly surprised to be invited to a softball game – and I love softball. And then the following occured:
I was out with my friend Marla who is leading a trip of high-schoolers from Brooklyn. She had to use the restroom. So she, a friend and I walk back to my place for a quick break. I open the door to my building (using the key). Not two steps into the building I turn around and say (with enthusiasm), “This is my baby, my bike”, as I look over and point to what appeared to be a piece of floor and a broken railing. It has been stolen.
So here is my eulogy:
Things are things, meant to be researched, sized, bought, used, cherished, used more, appreciated, and eventually replaced. They are not human life, and therefore we move on when bad things happen to good objects. However I considered my unnamed bike to be an extension of myself. Whether carting me from to Ulpan, the Beit K’nesset, the store, the beach, or a friends house, I could always rely on its wheels, gears, chain and breaks to reliably and speedily get my from place to place. Riding around Israel on bike trips was my solace – not only physical exercise but also a time to think, breathe fresh air, and celebrate good health and life. I will spend this Shabbat remembering all of the good times and each moment of the 700+ kilometeres that my bike and I spent together.
Early next week I will be purchasing a new bike, and the cycle of things (no pun intended) will continue. I hope that the [insert a cadre of expletives here] person or people who stole my bike will derive as much pleasure from it as I did, and will treat it with the same loving kindness with which we are supposed to treat one another.