From Biker to Guardian: The Story of How an Old Woman Counting Pennies Taught Me Life Lessons.

The cashier laughed at her. Not a nervous laugh, not a polite chuckle—this was sharp, cruel, and unmistakably real.

I stood frozen in line, my hands gripping the handlebars of my metaphorical motorcycle that had carried me across deserts, highways, and lifetimes of experience.

Sixty-seven years on this Earth, forty-three spent riding motorcycles, seeing fights, accidents, heartbreak—I had never felt anger rise so fast, so hot, so utterly consuming.

The tiny old woman trembled, her frail hands spilling coins across the counter.

She whispered an apology, voice shaking, so quiet it was almost swallowed by the hum of fluorescent lights.

People behind her shifted impatiently, sighing, glancing at their watches, rolling their eyes, as though her mere existence was an inconvenience. Continue reading…