Motorcycle

Herself speaks.

Beloved Husband has bought a motorcycle.

Sigh.

I know he's done all his research, and that he will wear appropriate protective gear. He's already passed the motorcycle riding course at the local community college, and has planned out where and when he will practice to become more comfortable on the motorcycle. So all is well, in theory.

Of all the various interests Beloved Husband has acquired over the years, though, this one makes me particularly uneasy. There's just too high a risk of Bad Things Happening. I know he'll be careful. But being careful isn't always enough.
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When the Offspring were very small, one of my low-grade-yet-constant worries was the possibility of Beloved Husband's untimely demise. I'm not entirely sure what the root was (other than the hormonal terrors of young motherhood), for he has always been a cautious individual and never had a particularly dangerous job or difficult commute. Still, it was a Big Fear.

The Offspring are all essentially grown now, and so the spectre of "widowed young mother" is past. Thank goodness. Nevertheless, should anything happen to him, the impact would be far-reaching, moving in ever-widening circles, through the immediate family, the extended family, his work sphere, and the community organizations for which he volunteers. I don't like to think about it and have not often done so -- until now.

It's not my role to tell him "no". Rather, I am here as a partner (both at home and at work), as co-parent, and most of all, as helpmeet. I have expressed my concerns, but know that he lives his own life and must make his own choices.

He's a smart man, and a careful man. It will probably all be fine. Still, I would much prefer that he go fishing.