My lonely motorcycle

My motorcycle scooter has a really good motor, 22,000 miles and it's still going strong.  It's a Honda, of course it's still working.  The plastic front is broken and would be falling off it weren't for the twisty ties holding it on to the dashboard. It's got the classic Honda Elite scooter look with the flat front that makes the dashboard look like someone holding their arms up to cover their face in shame. The tail lights and the rear break lights are out.  I don't know why and I've been meaning to fix them. It's hurting but knows it can still run and it just keeps going even though it needs help.  I just hope it doesn't crash and burn some day or, if it does, that it'll get rebuilt and will live the rest of it's life in better shape.
Last night I had a dream that I was sitting on an unfamiliar couch with my Mom who was curled up fast asleep in a sitting position with her feet propped up on the cushions.  Somehow she woke up and was slurring her speech not making much sense.  I told myself she was just groggy from being woken up in order to stifle the thought that she had been drinking again.  She claimed to be sober for almost 34 years even though I caught her in another dream which in this dream seemed like reality so i guess this was a continuation or recurrence of the same nightmare.  As she slurred her speech and couldn't really focus on me or anything the fear became stronger.  I thought, at 45 years old and her at 75 that this is just like when I was ten, when the person I loved and needed the most would trick me by having her physical self there right in front of me while completely disappearing.  I grabbed her water bottle and took a sip. It tasted like vodka.  How could you do this I said as I walked to the other side of the long still unfamiliar house to dump it out in the kitchen sink on the opposite side of the room some 40 ft away.  She realized what was going on and was making a failing, flailing attempt with her long skinny arms to defend and justify.  "How could it be that you're drinking again? This is the second time I've seen it and I don't even live with you."  I said crying from a distance.  Her head shook conveying the drunken "this is all fucked up" message and she bowed her head as her arms went up to cover her face and I looked at her as she turned into my lonely motorcycle.