"M" is for the many things she did for me....

[DaveTheAffable]

1973. Dad was not around when I turned 16. Mom helped me buy, repair, register, a Honda Trail 90. Then we drove down to "Skip Fordyce" in Riverside, Calif. There we found some used CHP helmets. I bought onr and painted it, orange! I rode that Honda 90 to and from school every day for 2 1/2 years.

 

Thanks Mom!

 

 

 

 

Anyone else have Motorcycle related ( or not ) Mom stories in honor of this Sunday being Mothers Day?

[Kathy R]

I watched her verbally soothe a kid who'd crashed his bicycle, all the while her hands moved at lightening speed as she removed gravel, cleaned wounds and swept him off to the hospital for stitches.

 

I was only 8, but in those moments she showed me the value of keeping focused in a crisis.

 

There were many more stories. What a wonderful person my Mom was.

 

[Lineareagle]

I happened to mention to a friend that my mother was in a dance band and played alto sax. as well as piano, I was recalling all the songs we sang as a kid around the piano.

 

He mentioned how unusual it must have been for her to play sax back then.

 

So I thought back, 1944 she was in the band. Man that really would have been unusual!

But not for her, she started her own business in 1953, I used to sleep on a mat in the back room of the store by the coal oil stove.

Everyday she would give me a nickle so I could go and buy a box of animal crackers.

Hmm

I was the last of five, she always said she wanted to go to Univ. when I went, sorry I didn't encourage her.

 

Fond memories of a great lady who never once thought she was any less for being a woman.

Nor that a man was anything more for being a man.

[KevinH]

My mom is in the Hospital. Heart related problems. My younger sister and I are leaning on each other. I'm in a low mood.

 

Mom is a heavy reader. Always has some magazine or paperback out. One of my favorite things to do is read. We are always sharing books and articles. She wants a Kindle because you can adjust the font size for poor eyes.

 

Love ya mom.

 

[DaveTheAffable]

My mom is in the Hospital.

 

Love ya mom.

 

Mine too. I choose (it's hard) to rejoice in what we had, be thankful for every moment we have, and not be overly saddened for losses yet to come.

[AZKomet]

The MANY times my mom supported me with my crazy science projects. Like not so legal model rockets, radio gizmos and the like....keeping me from getting my a$$ kicked by dad when I traded a go cart for a telescope!! Oh boy.....thanks mom!!!

[EffBee]

I’m getting way ahead of myself, here, sharing something from the life story of my Dad, a project I’ve been working on since his passing more than two years ago. I’ll condense it down. This is as much about him as it is my Mom.

 

It was 1948. Mom and Dad were in love. They wanted to get married. Her father would not allow it, even though she was 26. Dad was a motorcycle rider and had been a championship-winning racer in Argentina, and Mom’s dad didn’t think much of his past and present avocation, even though Dad was the son of a very successful rancher (then deceased) and a successful rancher in his own right. In those days, parental wishes were respected. Even if you run one of the 10 largest ranches in Argentina (204,000 acres).

 

Completely committed to my mom as he was, he went to church one day and promised God that if He allowed him to marry the woman he loved, he would, in turn, give up the only other thing he’d ever loved as much. Riding motorcycles.

 

Somewhere along the way, perhaps seeing how happy his daughter was when she was with this man, my future grandfather relented and gave his permission. They married in 1950 and were together until Dad’s death in 2006. During this time, my dad kept his promise. He never again rode a motorcycle. Not once in 56 years. Ever. He had given his word, and that meant something. He had made a pact, and he was going to keep his commitment. “You take responsibility and you live with the repercussions of your actions,” he would tell us. “You don’t weasel out just because it’s inconvenient.” You learn a LOT from a man like that.

 

But that didn’t keep him form being involved in motorcycling. We arrived in the U.S. late in 1956. Within five years, he was able to afford and put together a homemade motorcycle and got my brother and I involved in riding. He went on to restore old British bikes and won Concours d'Elegance with them. He promoted motorcycle events. In the mid 60's he brought fellow Argentine Benedicto Caldarella and the Gilera Four out of retirement and to Daytona for an FIM race where they led Mike Hailwood and the MV Agusta for 10 laps until a flat tire ended the Gilera’s day. Hailwood admitted he had nothing for them.

 

My brother and I rode Hodaka dirt bikes at first, then competed in English (Observed) Trials through our teen years. My Dad devised and promoted an event called El Trial de España, which was a fundraiser to send the best American riders to compete in one or two rounds of the FIM World Championship in Europe, and get some international experience against the best riders in the world. Today, the event is approaching its 40th anniversary and still raises funds, now to send the U.S. Team to the Trials of Nations international event. My Dad’s name hangs in the Hall of Fame of the North American Trials Council, the sport's governing body in the U.S.

 

Throughout all of this, Mom gave her entire and endless support. My Dad never took one red cent from any of the events he promoted. And he invested a lot of money in them. They were amateur events, ridden for love. He was an amateur promoter, doing what he could for a sport he loved. Mom never said a word, cutting here and scrimping there so that he could do what he did. She knew the sacrifice he’d made, what he’d given up for her. And she knew that this was his way of staying connected to a sport he loved with all his heart. But that he loved her more.

 

She came out to the desert when we first started riding. When we began competing in Trials, she came out and supported us. We always had the best “pits” with the best food, shade and refreshments, all courtesy of her. She surrendered her back yard to us, and to the logs and rocks and man-made obstacles we constructed back there in order to practice riding. How many moms are happy to see their sons dragging ladders, teeter-totters, empty oil barrels, large telephone cable spools, and other of society’s flotsam into their back yards, and living 24/7 with the view? I’m sure she would much rather have had a nice swimming pool.

 

She said she took comfort on weekend nights, knowing my brother and I were in the garage preparing our bikes for Sunday’s competitions, rather than out with friends, testing society’s tolerance for our youthful excesses. She supported our travel. From SoCal to NorCal for the state championship, to Colorado for the Ute Cup Trial, to Canada for an FIM World Round. Eventually, I began racing motocross and enduros. And when I got a job as an editor at Cycle World and was riding everything from motocrossers to café racers as part of that job, she gave me her support. My brother continued riding trials, spending a couple of years working in Spain at the Montesa factory, and eventually returning to the U.S. and traveling the country chasing the AMA’s #1 plate. Mom supported him as well.

 

Mom never rode with Dad before they were married. And she rode on her own only once. We had a little 50cc trail bike and we were vacationing up near Big Bear, in the San Gabriel Mountains. We convinced her to try the bike. She made it about 50 feet before she fell off at 4mph, rolling onto her back with her feet in the air. She got up and brushed a few pine needles off and never said a word about it to us, or about the fact that my Dad had his 8mm camera pointed at her. We still have that faded footage, now on video.

 

Away from motorcycles, Mom’s an amazing woman. A philharmonic-level pianist, a former Mensa member, and a repository of the widoms earned as the eldest child, an expatriate Spaniard who fled her homeland during their Civil War (1933), who lived in Switzerland and Argentina before the U.S., and who is fluent in 6 languages.

 

At 85 she’s now lost all her hearing, but she’s nonetheless still fervently self sufficient, still has that loving twinkle in her eye, and has the love and respect of every single person who has ever known her, from the city officials with whom she worked for 30 years, to the lady whose youth and dexterity allow her to clean the house Mom can no longer bend and reach enough to handle on her own. Everyone loves Mary Rose.

 

Mom reads everything she can. She watches caption-coded cable TV (mostly Discovery) looking for information, not entertainment, still on the endless quest to sharpen her mind. And every evening she usually kicks everyone’s butt on Jeopardy. It’s amazing to watch her read the questions and blurt out the answers even before Alex Trebek is done reading the question.

 

I got my passion for motorcycles and my work ethic from my Dad. I got my intellect and my heart from my Mom. I could not have had two better people to teach me about life and how to live it honorably.

 

Happy Mother’s Day, Mom.

 

I love you.

 

 

 

 

[Huzband]

One January day when I was twelve, my Mom asked me if I wanted to go to the Honda shop with her. You bet! I think I was in the station wagon before she was. We go in, & she's greated by a salesman. They proceed to have a familiar conversation, which is a bit confusing to me. It all becomes clear when she writes & hands him a check, & he rolls out & puts in the wagon a shiny red CT70.

 

And that's where all this nonsense that's been going on for the last forty years started.

 

Mom's been gone for four years now. I miss her dearly, but I thank her for that start.

 

I'm getting a bit choked up now, so I'd better stop.

 

Happy Mother's Day, Mom.

[Flipper]

Not my Mom but my wife in the role of Mom-to-Be. She was eight months pregnant with our daughter when during a visit to a bike-happy cousin, he mentioned that his brother was selling his R80RT to buy a R1100RT, and that I should buy the old bike. I expressed some interest to her and left it at that.

 

The next day she told me that she had sold some stock and that we were heading to the cousin's house the following weekend to pick up the bike. That was my re-entry into riding following a 14 year layoff after wrecking on my 1st ride.

 

Half of the people we know said she was crazy for "letting" me get a bike when she was pregnant. The other half thought she was pretty cool for buying it for me. I'm with the latter.

[SeanC]

I bought my first Mother's Day card for my mom when I was six years old. My dad drove me into town on Saturday to run errands, go to the ranch supply and hardware stores, etc. He dropped me off at the Ben Franklin, which was probably the only place in town to buy greeting cards (but it had a whole bunch of stuff of interest to a six-year old boy as well). I pored over every card, painstakingly narrowing down my selection before finally deciding on the one perfect card for my mom. Took me well over half an hour.

 

I paid for it with my own money, and I remember feeling very proud about it (and also proud that I didn't buy any candy or trinkets for myself). Of course, I also had some other crap for her I had made in school the day before, but it was this card I had chosen so carefully and purchased all on my own that I couldn't wait to give her.

 

When she opened it the next morning, she smiled the basic mom-opening-a-mother's-day-card smile, then paused as if trying to hold back a sneeze, except it wasn't a sneeze -- it was laughter, which after a few moments finally broke loose of her control. She was laughing so hard tears were rolling down her cheeks. I was confused, ready to feel hurt, but mostly confused.

 

The front of the card read: "To the Mother of the Woman I Love..."

 

Of all the cards and gifts I would give her in the years that followed, none would ever top that one. In fact, on every Mother's Day, with each gift she received from me, Mom would ask, mockingly yet lovingly, "For me... the mother of the woman you love?"

 

I really, really miss her.

[Bob Palin]

Just after I bought my first real bike, a Honda CB175, a couple of my teenage male friends were standing out in front of the house admiring it with me when Mum comes out and says "Imagine, all that power between your legs". Took quite a while to stop the morons repeating that line!

 

Mum took some time of work when my sister and I were kids then at 40 she went back to work and school and became a chemistry lab technician (I helped her with her homework). She did that for a few years then went back to school again, all part time while working, and became a video technician, she could have done anything given the chance I think. She ran away from high school, faked her age and joined the Land Army during WW2 so never got formal qualifications until she went back later in life. About 10 years ago I got an email that claimed to be from somebody called Win Palin, she had gone out and bought a computer and learned to use it. Email has been almost daily since then, I have every one she has sent.

 

She'll be 80 this year and we're going to have a big party to celebrate. It's not Mother's Day in England but thanks anyway Mum.

[baggerchris]

One time my dad who was manager of an apt. house got into it with a guy from across the steet and they started to fight. My dad 60; the guy: 30. Anyway, along came my Mom with her shovel and tried her level best to whack that guy as hard as she could over the head. Looked like something out of "I love Lucy". My Dad and the guy all stopped what they were doing and just looked at her and then all of us including her broke up and started laughing. End of fight.

[Limecreek]

My Mom had a lot of mental health issues when I was a kid, but she did the best that she could. She was a victim of years of child abuse and just couldn't overcome it....but she did the best she could, and in the end that is all we can do as parents.

 

My wish, my prayers for my Mom is that she will find peace and comfort in her own skin before she leaves this earth. She knows that we all love her very much, but it isn't enough for others to care about you when you don't love yourself. And I pray that I will remember to overlook her behavior and remember that I am the parent now and she is my child. It isn't about me and how I feel about things--it never was; it is about her and making sure she knows that I love her.

 

I love you Mom!

 

[Les is more]

My Mom was, at once, one of the funniest and saddest people I've ever known. She was tremendously affectionate and had a truly frightening and violent, explosive temper. She did pass along some very valuable things (other than the confusion that you might expect).

 

She read to me. My earliest memories go back to age 4 when I nestled next to her listening to Milton and Shakespeare. Hence I got the gift of knowing that she thought I had a fine and discerning mind.

 

She played the piano, jazz standards mostly, ala Duke Ellington, Jess Stacy and Oscar Peterson. She discovered that I could sing and taught me her favorite tunes while regaling me with stories of my Grandfather's wonderful baritone and his ability to bring down the house with a song. She said I was like that. Hence I got the gift of knowing that I had that gift of song.

 

She held me and hugged me and kissed me often, always explaining that affection between people was one of the greatest gifts of all. I got that too.

 

My mother took many things from me, some of which I search for to this day, but for those things she gave me, I will be for ever grateful.

[Rinkydink]

I was in the first grade and climbed to the top of a monster oak tree behind the house. There was a v in the branches there and I used to wedge my knee in it and thought I could see for miles. Well, I got my knee stuck and absolutely couldn't get it out. Here came mom to the rescue, shimmying up the tree like a monkey and got me down and proceded to whip my butt with a weeping willow branch she made me pick out. I never could decide whether a small skinny one or the fat ones hurt less though....

[Matts_12GS]

Mom always hated that my brothers rode motorcycles, and once openly forbade me from riding until she was gone or I had a wife who blessed it.

 

I did both.

 

Nonetheless, mom taught me to be adventurous. She read to me, we watched old movies together when I was younger, we used to fish a lot off the old Indian Rocks Pier (destroyed by Hurricane Elana in 1985). Most of all, she taught me to laugh and enjoy life.

 

Dianne got to know her before her death, but mom never saw us marry. She didn't get to see my college graduation, and for me the hardest is that the 6 year old down the hall never knew her.

 

She's been gone 16 years this coming July, but I still think of her almost daily. I miss her so

[Bob Palin]

She's been gone 16 years this coming July, but I still think of her almost daily. I miss her so

You know how sometimes there's nothing to say but you just want to put your hand on somebodies shoulder for a moment, well Matt - .

[Matts_12GS]

Thank you Bob.

Sorry to be a buzz kill everyone, it just hit me reading this thread.

 

Happy Day you mothers!