There is this song, an AMAZING song, by Bob Seger called 'Roll Me Away'. If you have never heard this song then I suggest you click over to YouTube.com and listen. The music combined with the lyrics are so powerful, more so to the music lovers soul, but so powerful that even the most skeptic will feel this fire deep within the pit of the stomach that builds in intensity for a feeling of euphoria bursting in sheer inspiration for peace within.
This song reminds me of an amazing trip I once took with my dad before our relationship became complicated with the demands of the balance between being a daughter and becoming an adult.
My family was once into motorcycle riding, so much so that I even got my license, and had this desire to make a trip down to Taos, NM. It was the day before we were to leave and Dad had gotten into a fight with my step mother, for reasons I cannot remember, which resulted in him opting out of this trip. So, as planned, my brother, aunt and uncle loaded up and headed out. My day with my parents was relatively normal in the sense of work, stress and more stress. That night my dad sat down with me and asked me if I really wanted to go with everyone and I expressed my disappointment in missing out on what would be a great experience with my family.
That next morning my dad woke me and said we were going. We would take an alternate route and hopefully intercept the rest of the clan, taking them by surprise. I asked about mom and he simply left her a letter with a short explanation. With that, we loaded the bike and left.
We took this amazing route over the mountains stopping in a town by the great divide next to this breathtakingly beautiful lake. I was freezing but did not have the audacity in me to complain, I was having the time of my life with the man I had placed upon a pedestal and looked up to my entire life. It was wondrous in the way I would possibly imagine heaven to be. I was with the person whom made me the happiest, doing something both of us loved with a passion, and the surrounding atmosphere was something out of a fairytale novel. We had the best trip of a lifetime, and even though we did meet up with the rest of my family, I was still cherishing the thought that it was just my dad and me, living vicariously, sharing an experience so monumental that my words cannot even begin to express in the way of the realism of that adventure.
As much turmoil that my father and I have been through, the meaning and enormous emotional impact that that particular moment had on our relationship is completely detrimental to the emotional bond I have with him and the respect that I have towards the man whom not only made life possible for me but also whom spent many many early mornings grabbing cinnamon rolls at a now extinct diner, or secretive stops at a liquor store, or amazing moments working on a piece of art within the garage to metal that once transported human beings similar to you and me but in a different era, but a man whom I am honored to call dad, missing terribly due to the stupid (and I mean STUPID) events that took place in the transitional time of me becoming an adult, and a man whom I respect and thank for teaching me that life isn't perfect but as long as you are honest and follow your dreams, living the life and dreams YOU have, not someone elses, you have done good. You are successful. That is the man I love and am thankful for.
Why is this important? You may be asking yourself this very question. But I assure you that it has a lot to do with my now distorted image of myself yet the knowledge that no matter what pain we have endured or brought onto each other, I still unconditionally love my father, thank him for his teachings, and am grateful that he gave my brother the skills possible to make yesterday, not only a dream, but a kick-ass reality.
So I bring you to the Westwater run I shared with my brother just yesterday.
That next morning my dad woke me and said we were going. We would take an alternate route and hopefully intercept the rest of the clan, taking them by surprise. I asked about mom and he simply left her a letter with a short explanation. With that, we loaded the bike and left.
We took this amazing route over the mountains stopping in a town by the great divide next to this breathtakingly beautiful lake. I was freezing but did not have the audacity in me to complain, I was having the time of my life with the man I had placed upon a pedestal and looked up to my entire life. It was wondrous in the way I would possibly imagine heaven to be. I was with the person whom made me the happiest, doing something both of us loved with a passion, and the surrounding atmosphere was something out of a fairytale novel. We had the best trip of a lifetime, and even though we did meet up with the rest of my family, I was still cherishing the thought that it was just my dad and me, living vicariously, sharing an experience so monumental that my words cannot even begin to express in the way of the realism of that adventure.
As much turmoil that my father and I have been through, the meaning and enormous emotional impact that that particular moment had on our relationship is completely detrimental to the emotional bond I have with him and the respect that I have towards the man whom not only made life possible for me but also whom spent many many early mornings grabbing cinnamon rolls at a now extinct diner, or secretive stops at a liquor store, or amazing moments working on a piece of art within the garage to metal that once transported human beings similar to you and me but in a different era, but a man whom I am honored to call dad, missing terribly due to the stupid (and I mean STUPID) events that took place in the transitional time of me becoming an adult, and a man whom I respect and thank for teaching me that life isn't perfect but as long as you are honest and follow your dreams, living the life and dreams YOU have, not someone elses, you have done good. You are successful. That is the man I love and am thankful for.
Why is this important? You may be asking yourself this very question. But I assure you that it has a lot to do with my now distorted image of myself yet the knowledge that no matter what pain we have endured or brought onto each other, I still unconditionally love my father, thank him for his teachings, and am grateful that he gave my brother the skills possible to make yesterday, not only a dream, but a kick-ass reality.
So I bring you to the Westwater run I shared with my brother just yesterday.
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