Sash-Colored Glasses

I've always been this way. I remember once my sister shouting at me, thoroughly annoyed, asking, "Why do you have to talk about this stuff?!"

I long to discuss feelings, thoughts, and memories. Pondering big and small questions, philosophising the whys and the why-nots, and wondering what makes me tick are all pastimes of mine since I was a child. This drove my family crazy, as I seemed to be the only one wired this way.

When I was older I realized that my Daddy was this way too. He had grown within himself, probably in his years of riding, and had also pondered these things, ad infinitum. He had answers that I could not understand to questions I hadn't yet asked, but one day would. He shared those thoughts with me and I, hungry for every piece of him, treasured the confusing parables to ponder later days.

As I ride now I remember his words and they make miraculous sense as I look out over the foreign landscapes of my country. His quotes, still fresh in my mind, click into place like the gears of a reassembled machine.

CLICK!

SNAP!

CLICK!

CLICK!

Whiiiiiiiiirrrrrrrr. . .

The engine runs and my life makes sense for the first time with the answers I've had stowed away all of these years. It seems I only needed to mount my motorcycle to understand the language he had spoken.

I've missed my Daddy for 22 long years. I've ached to hear his voice, smell his skin, feel his embrace. I've cried enough tears to wash myself into him and back again. Yet the ache lingers and for this ailment there is no cure.

Highway lost his father last October. We knew he was ill and the time was drawing nigh. When it came I feared the worst for Highway, as I remembered how hard it has been for me.

"I feel closer to my father now than I ever have," Highway explained. "There's no one between us now. We understand each other and he's always with me. I only have to think of him and he's there."

Motorcycle Philosophy indeed.

Highway's transition appeared so seamless, so simple. I had ached all of these years, and now I find that all I needed was to reach out and my Daddy was right there all along. I find that all I needed was to mount up and ride to understand the language of this man I've spent my life loving, missing and needing. He's right there; in every curve, along every dotted line, on every stretch of asphalt. He's there with the answers I've been seeking; my answers.

CLICK!

SNAP!

CLICK!

CLICK!

Whiiiiiiiiirrrrrrrr. . .

Katie Scarlet roars around another bend and a canyon splay out before me with cliffs of red along a sparkling, singing river. It all makes sense and I weep at the beauty. It was all so simple, so beautiful, so clear.

I only needed to flow with it, like a leaf on the river.

Riders seem to understand a special language of leaves and rivers and asphalt that others frown upon. They can sense the sun on the horizon, the storm that lies ahead, the beauty that surrounds them. I feel so blessed, so serene. It's as if now I see the world through Sash-Colored Glasses and everything is just as it should be. Just the way it always has been. Just the way it always will be.

Thank you Daddy. I love you.

Riding with My Daddy