There are few things in life which bring more joy, more worry, more pride, or more sorrow than one's family. As a young parent, I remember thinking that someday my children would be grown and on their own and I could relax and not have to worry about them. Guess again. They grow up, move out, have their own families and then they come back, suffer crisis, share their concerns and, fortunately, remain a part of your life. They are what life is all about. They share their triumphs, their dreams, their experiences and continue to share their lives with you. Family relationships are eternal in nature and endure throughout this life, and I believe into the eternities, and I am glad for that.

As I take inventory of my family, I am grateful for children who are talented, intelligent, and caring people. They are exceptional in their own individual ways. I have children who excel in leadership, who are patient enough to debug a computer program (that patience didn't come from me), who can sing, write, save lives, teach, play musical instruments, and do so many more great things. The are contributing members of society who show compassion for others, who speak their minds yet try to understand others, they contribute. They are examples to the children they love, and work hard to see that their children know they are loved and supported. As I watch them progress through life, I see them working to instill in their children the values which will helped make them successful. As I quietly stand back and observe, I am proud of the men and women they have become.

In the twilight of my life, I sometime allow my mind to wander back to the days when they were young. I see a collection of happy urchins playing in the mud, catching fish at Pine Valley (or some just playing with caught fish), entertaining themselves in front of an old VHS camera with imaginations that could stifle the likes of Spielberg, or Lucas. Those are good memories for me. There are times when I wish I could go back in time even if for just a moment; go back and just stand back and watch the energy of their youth and their love for each another.

As I quietly watch them today, from a distance, I see that youthful love continually expressed as they support each other. I realize with regularity how lucky I am as I see them comfort each other, share their resources when one is in need, and as they laugh and work together. Each one is following their own path, but they are still, unquestionably family. Their in no question about the love they have for each other and for us as their parents. They are exceptional and I love them with all my heart. I hope they never question my love or the special place they hold in my heart. I hope they know just how special they are and how grateful I am that they are my children.

Shadow Riding

In my life some things which used to be easy, have become hard. Things I looked forward to are now sometimes difficult. So it was today when I charged up the battery, rolled out the bike and took my first ride since December 2^nd 2016. Once the thought of a ride on a beautiful, sunny southern Utah day brought a special kind of excitement, but today with Tony's death still fresh in my memory, it brought trepidation spawned by uncertainty. The uncertainty of wondering what emotions I would experience as I rolled the throttle back and headed into the spring wind.

I had a meeting in town, or so I thought. I decided to put my emotions to a test by riding into town to the meeting. When I got to the designated meeting place no one was there, so I guessed it had been canceled and I must have missed the memo. The ride in was difficult; not in a physical or visual way. I donned Tony's helmet, the one I wish he had been wearing on December 2^nd, and headed in. It was a typical southern Utah early spring day, crisp, but not cold, bright with the radiation of the sun through the blue sky enhancing the colorful scenery so typical of this area. Traffic was light, and as the wind hit my face through the open face shield I almost remembered why I loved to ride. I say almost because there was this shadow. One that has followed me around lately and takes a little of the glow off a day like today.

It's hard to read gauges when your eyes are clouded with moisture. The ride in brought back a flood of memories. They weren't of how much I liked to ride or the many trips I had taken. They were of how much he liked to ride. I could see his broad smile and windblown hair. I remembered the many times he shared with me his love of motorcycles and told me of his trips, his bike, and the exhilaration he experienced with each ride. Each story revealed his love of the sport and his love of life. He relished life's experiences and had an enthusiasm for life that I lack. An enthusiasm that radiated from him in everything he did.

When I found the meeting was canceled and headed for home, I couldn't bring myself to end the ride. I headed north, wound back the throttle, and continued my solitary reminiscent journey. I began to remember why I love to ride. Things are bigger, clearer, more colorful, more fragrant and alive from the seat of a motorcycle. The world is a more exciting, relaxing and beautiful place when you are on two wheels and the wind is your ever present companion. After a while, dried by the breeze, the moisture left my eyes and the view of the gauges became a little clearer. As I wound my way along the Twisty Gunlock Road, in my minds eye I could see him ahead of me. His bigger-than-life presence leading me along; leaning into each corner, rolling back the throttle out of each turn, and popping up and accelerating into the straight-a-ways. With his Beemer, he could leave me behind with little effort, but that would not be him. I could envision him ripping out of a turn, beginning to leave me, and then looking over his shoulder and dropping off the throttle so he stayed with me. He never left me in life, even though he could have many times. He was like that. Not only with me, but with others he loved, and those who he didn't know, who needed him.

As I rode along, the gauges came in and out of focus as waves of memories washed over me. I don't know how much I will ride in the future even though I still love it. The prospect of motorcycle riding doesn't scare me. I have come to the conclusion that one can leave this life in many ways, at anytime, and leaving while doing something you love is not necessarily a bad thing. It's just that some of the magic seems gone. Maybe, with time, it will return. Maybe it will become easier and the gauges will stay in focus. Maybe I will find a way to stay connected with him on two wheels. For now, whether or not that happens remains to be seen. I know for now I will miss him whether I am on two wheels, four wheels, or on foot. That shadow still lingers, it continues to follow me, and waives of grief still find a way to wash over me without warning. When they do, I will continue to breath deep and wait them out hoping someday they will leave me alone. Hoping someday that the shadow will be gone.