Letter to My Father

Dear Dad,

I’m sorry I can’t talk to you about this in person yet.  I’m still extremely upset about the situation and I don’t know how to talk to you about this.

It’s not that I’m afraid you’ll be angry, because I don’t believe you will.  You were the one that always told me to never own anything you’re afraid to lose.  I can’t remember how many times you have imparted that piece of wisdom and I’ve always tried to take it to heart.

I do believe you will be disappointed, though, and maybe a little sad.  I think I would deal with the anger better than disappointment.  I let you down.  Again.  I’m so sorry.

So, I’ll just spit it out right here, right now.  The 1970’s Colnago that you rode in the 1980 Ironman has been sold in a yardsale.

I was storing it at a friend’s house.  My apartment got too small after our daughter was born, and so he was keeping it for me in the garage.  This seemed the best place for it because when I moved to a bigger apartment, its not the greatest place in the world and I was afraid it would be stolen.

It was stolen anyway.  His mom had a garage sale and decided to sale the bike.  She may not have remembered it was mine specifically (although I’m 99.9% sure she knew it was mine), or maybe she did and didn’t care, who knows with that woman.  If she didn’t remember whose it was, she didn’t ask anyone if they knew whose it was.  She needed money and she sold it.  Probably got $10 bucks for it.

I should have known better than to trust them dad, but they seemed like good people.  I ignored the history of gambling with the mom, and the brothers drug addiction since all he has ever done in the 9 years I’ve known is sit in the den and watch tv all day.  I never should have agreed to have the bike stored there.

My friend had no idea the bike had been sold.  Not until I went to pick it up after our daughter’s birthday party, anyway.  He went to look for it and when he couldn’t find it he called his mom and she told him.

I’m sorry she sold your bike, dad.  I will do everything I can to find it.  I’ve already posted “In Search Of…” posts on craigslist and fb swap and sale sites.  even the Crimewatch page, but maybe a picture will help.  I’ll take a photo of one of your Ironman pictures and crop your face out and I’ll make flyers.  I’m going to post flyers on every lamp post, repost in fb pages and on craiglist with a picture of the bike.  Worse case scenario, maybe I can find a replica.  If I can find the frame with the same colors as your bike, then I can buy it and then give it to you and you’d never know it wasn’t yours.  You can’t ride it anymore anyway.

Maybe the person who bought the bike doesn’t know it’s value and will give it back to me when he sees the flyers.  I’d prefer that of course, especially since the average 1970’s Colnago sales anywhere from $2500 – $5000.  It would be extremely difficult for me to swing that kind of money, especially since I’m only working one job right now.

I can’t tell you how sorry I am.  This bike is priceless in terms of sentimental value, not only for you but for me, too.  I remember watching the 1980 Ironman on tv, hoping for a glimpse of my daddy.  I was only six, but I still remember sitting in front of the tv in our living room.  I also remember the guy that got stung by the jellyfish in the beginning of the triathalon.  the cameraman showed him riding his bike with a patch over his eye held in place with gauze.  But I digress.

That bike symbolizes one of your greatest achievements and now its gone.  I just hope the person that bought it knows it’s value and takes care of it, that maybe they NEED it because they can’t afford a car.  Maybe it’s their primary transportation so they can get to and from work so they can make sure their kids have food, clothes, and shelter.  If they bring me back the bicycle, I will happily replace it with a new one.

While I do hope that the bike is serving some purpose, this doesn’t stop me from crying everyday.  I cry because I know you’re going to be disappointed, I cry that I was so stupid in keeping the bike there, I cry because I trusted the wrong people, and I cry because I lost your bike.

I cannot tell you how upset I am.  I’ve been sick and depressed ever since The Event.  But I promise I’ll do this as long as it takes until I get your bike back.  I wont stop trying, I promise, and maybe someday, even if it’s ten years from now, someone will call me and let me know they have the bike and they want to give it back.

I just want to give your bike back to you,  that’s all.

About Chaos5150

I'm a medical coder by day, hermit by night, a 24 hr mommy, and a closet line-dancer whenever I get the chance. I love my daughter, I love my job, I love my friends, I love my cats, and I love my family. I love the dry heat, driving into the middle of the desert at night to see the moon and the stars, beading jewelry, torturing the unaware, and scaring people. People say I'm evil, but I'm not. I'm just a little mischievous.
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