My mom deserves a separate post.
She, unfortunately, passed away Aug 9, 2003, due to colon cancer. No offense taken, it's not like I tell everyone about it all the time. I think she is doing fine though, if you ask me
However, in keeping with my blathering posts, I'd like to step on a soapbox and talk about my mom. I owe her a lot and I don't think I'd be a cyclist if it wasn't for her.
I ended up the person spending the most time with her while she talked about her mortality (cancer, diagnosed in 2000). My dad simply couldn't let go and my mom didn't think he'd be able to do so - so she asked me to make sure that we didn't prolong her suffering needlessly (operations, life support, feeding tubes, etc). When it was apparent that she wasn't going to make it, she and I had a very deep talk. I told her that she should feel okay about giving up and simply enjoy the family around her. She was doing a lot of exercises to try and keep her strength up but with various tumors she was exhausting herself instead. We were all there, her 3 sons, daughter, my dad, and her long lost sister. The sister is a story in herself - she and my mom met when they were 47 and 45 years old - the sister survived Hiroshima as a small girl, found near the epicenter (or whatever it's called) and whisked away by relatives (my mom was living with her paternal grandmother so she wasn't there). Basically everyone on my mom's mom's side was killed.
However, before anyone goes nuts about atomic bombs, my mom said it was the best thing that happened in WW2. If they hadn't been dropped there probably would not have been a Japanese culture. As a little girl she was training to fight the "American barbarians". Since little girls can't kill very well, they were training with bamboo spears which would be coated with feces. The army people figured the US soldiers would back away from a mass of 7-10 year old girls with gross bamboo spears. The army planted mines where the girls would herd the soldiers. No telling what would happen to said girls when the mines went off. My mom endured daily B-29 bombings (she lived in a major city). Her father was a noted scientist who had done a lot of work with the Japanese military so he was "asked" to teach in the US - MIT, Caltech, UChicago. He brought his second wife and his daughter. My mom loved the US so much she persuaded my dad to join her (he'd been tutoring my mom's little brother). They never left except when asked by my dad's employer.
Anyway, at the same time we were having this very deep talk, she asked if I'd be defending my 2002 CT State Crit championships (they were held in late July I think, in 2003). She always thought of her kids, no matter what was happening with her. I told her I was skipping that race and that I'd go back and reclaim the gold medal some other year. I also promised her that I'd win the Bethel Spring Series for her, again, in a future year. In 2004 I got 2nd in the Series. In 2005 I won the Series. In 2006 I won the CT Crit gold medal (by placing third in the race). I made clips of the races to pay tribute to my mom.
2005 Bethel Spring Series final (not a helmet cam, taped by my brother):
http://youtube.com/watch?v=EkgmQWyipQo
2006 CT State Crits, Cat 3:
http://youtube.com/watch?v=fiMfxE14yaQ
I may have put my mom up on a pedestal but I don't think so. I had always loved her and always cared for her. She taught me to live my life with dignity, that anything is possible, supported my various unusual (for my family) ideas, and appreciated my occasional impractical ideas. For example, when I decided I'd buy my first new car, I initially thought about buying something practical, a Civic or similar, $15-17k. But when I saw the then-new 350Z I decided I really, really wanted it (it'd cost about $30k). Since it takes me forever to make up my mind, it was a year before I even ordered it. But before I did anything, I ran the idea by my mom. If she did as much as frown, I'd have skipped it and gotten a more practical car. But she smiled and asked if I would promise to give her a ride in the car. So I went and ordered it, and ultimately I got one of the nicer ones (an extra year of money saved). Sadly she was never well enough to ride it in once I actually had the car, but I asked my dad to carry her ashes in the car. So, in effect, I got to give her the ride I promised.
cdr