One of the most important deciding factors in me getting the Ural was how my daughter Chloe felt about it. When I first brought the idea up on an indian summer afternoon, her eyes lit up as we talked. If it were up to her, we would have immediately gone to the Ural dealer. She was all in.
My daughter is my life’s finest work. I don’t have the power to string together a sentence that could do justice to describing just how much I love that kid. The idea that she likes spending time with her ole Ma, well… it makes me feel like a million bucks.
Last night we rolled the orange rig out of the garage, suited up and went for a ride. Mountains of snow lined the roadways. A wet spray pinwheeled into the air as cars drove through the trickling melt. She could have been tucked away warm, playing video games at home, instead – she wanted to go for a ride.
As we rode along under the street lamps, I kept stealing glances of my girl in her chair. She just sat quietly, watching the world go by.
I often wonder what it is that she’s thinking about when we’re cruising along. And yet, part of me doesn’t really want to know because whatever it is, it belongs to her alone.
What will the memories of these ride be like for her years down the road? As a mom, I wonder. My hope is that riding in the big orange sidecar will become one of the many happy threads that weave through her childhood.
Only time will tell…