Thank you, Enne, for giving me a safe and welcoming place for this poem and story.

Ruth alienated so many people, including her daughter (I was her step-daughter). The only blood relative still alive that she had some sort of relationship with, and that was distant, was her younger brother. Her family completely disapproved of her racing and other "manly" activities. He wouldn't care a thing about the box of bike memorabilia. I haven't had contact with him in many years and don't even know if he's still living.

I was the only heir of her "stuff", and I could only take a small amount of all the piles and piles of things in her house. She was a lifelong pack-rat who became a full-fledged hoarder in her later years.

I contacted bike racing organizations but no one is interested. I'll keep a few photos but the rest has to go.