Today would have been Kelly’s 17th birthday.

Ed’s brother is visiting; he spent a quiet day by the lake. I donated blood again. Ed and I also planned to do the Ride of Silence, a worldwide slow, silent ride in memory of cyclists who have been killed or injured. It seemed an appropriate way to think of Kelly.

In the end, Ed had to stay at work to late to make the ride, so I went alone.

This was a somber ride. Over a thousand riders lined up at 7pm at White Rock Lake. The White Rock ride is the original one, started in response to the death of Larry Schwartz, a local endurance cyclist who was nationally known. The pre-ride speech was sobering, reminding everyone that the person next to you might not be here next year to ride. And then a bagpiper played “Amazing Grace”, which reminded me of Kelly’s funeral, which made me cry (as it always does). I wasn’t the only one tearing up. And then we rolled out.

The slow speed was difficult to maintain with that many people, but appropriate. It took about an hour to get around the lake (as opposed to my usual half hour), and in all that time, no one said a word.

After the ride, the riders lined up on either side of the road, front wheel to center. Someone walked a ghost bike by, and the bagpiper played “Taps”, and we all rode home to live another day.