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Aftermath: Stuck in Neutral



Red Rocks Amphitheater outside Denver
I always experience a post-road trip depression of sorts when I return home. Even more so this trip since I had to bury Our Dad in the middle of this summers excursion. Bessie is clean and gleaming in the darkened garage, awaiting my attention…but I’m not inclined to ride anytime soon.

If I believe the words of the Eulogy I wrote – and I do wholeheartedly – then I am practicing acceptance. Monday was the first day I was truly ‘alone,’ after traveling with my partner for three weeks and being surrounded by family and friends during the week in Indiana. Normally, I embrace my time alone, this week….it has been uncomfortable. 

“I don't wanna be the girl who has to fill the silence
The quiet scares me 'cause it screams the truth (Pink)”

The truth is, I am still bewildered by Our Dad’s choice. I awake each morning grateful for the daylight, grateful for the quiet satisfaction of a strong cup of coffee sweetened by my favorite creamer. I anticipate the day ahead regardless of my responsibilities. I value my partner, my daughter, my friends, my students. I look forward to coming home; a beautiful home, filled with laughter and love. I eagerly anticipate the next ride on Bessie, the next book I choose to get lost in, or the next blank page I will fill up with my writing. I cannot fathom the hopelessness that would surround me enough to make a conscience choice to just ‘check out’ of all of the above.

I will miss my Dad’s cards; he sent them almost weekly. Not just to me, but to everyone in his life. Motivational, inspirational, they were a small gift arriving in the mailbox. And they always seemed to arrive at a time when I needed that extra ‘umph’ to my spirit…words of encouragement from my Dad. It makes me sad to realize there will be no more cards.

I will miss the weekly calls to my Dad. He was my biggest fan. Although I had not seen him since last summers road trip, we talked frequently, the last time just before I left on the trip. And we always ended our conversation with ‘I love you.’ For that I am grateful as well. My Dad always loved hearing about my trips, and took great enjoyment in the photos from the trip. Last summer, he bought me a Go=Pro Video Camera for the bike so I could take videos ‘on the road.’ I recorded our decent from the summit of Pikes Peak (forgot about it on the way up!), but I haven’t had the heart to look at it…that was something I would have done with Dad.

This week, I have either been stuck in neutral, or stuck in high gear…no in between, no balance. This morning seems to be one of stuck in neutral, and when that happens, I just allow the feelings to wash over me, hoping the effort will allow me to move on at some point. My Dad always reminded me that I was the resilient one, the one who always met adversity and difficulty head on, not allowing anything to get me down.

“As my soul slides down to die.
How could I lose him?
What did I try?
Bit by bit, I've realized
That he was here with me;
I looked into my father's eyes.
My father's eyes.
I looked into my father's eyes.
My father's eyes (Claption)”



The music will soothe me.
The words will calm me.
The images will remind me.
The laughter and the love will sustain me.
And the memories will comfort my soul.



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