Last week, Tommy asked Bear when he could learn to ride a real motorcycle.
“When you’re ready, little warrior,” Bear said. “And we’ll all be there to teach you, just like your dad would have wanted.”
“Every last one of us,” Bear confirmed. “That’s what family does.”
Tommy nodded solemnly, then ran off to play, his father’s legacy of brotherhood protecting him with every step.
The funeral may have been three years ago, but Jim’s brothers have never left. They showed up when a widow and her son needed them most, and they’ve never stopped showing up.
Because that’s what bikers do. They ride together. They stand together. And when one falls, they make sure his family never stands alone.
Forty-seven bikers walked my son to kindergarten, and in doing so, they walked us both back to life.
