The other day I saw a vintage motorcycle at the flea market. I thought how my Dad would have loved it. I could see him rub his chin as he bent down to check it out...and at the moment, in that briefest second that cannot be measured, I felt him by my side and my eyes welled up with tears. It is funny how out of the blue, something can reminds us of someone and then there they are right by our side.
Dad, no matter how far away you are, I know you are near.
I am eight years old, and riding in front of my Father on his motorcycle. We are rounding up the cows to go milk them in the barn. My Dad says that he thinks I am ready to ride on my own. I take hold of the handle bars, I feel him proud. He says, "Ya you are ready!" And jumps off. I glance back, see him standing with his hands on his hips, smiling, yelling, "Look where you're going!" I look ahead, see the field, the cows, the blue sky, and the freedom to explore.
The feeling has never left.
Tell me a memory of you Dad?