A picture taken when I was thirteen forever captured how I saw my father. I remember the moment he showed me the print. He loved what it revealed; freedom, living life at speed, heading into the unknown, and adapting the curves. I recognised and knew this figure.
Love is unconditional. The man on the bike, as wild and carefree as the picture suggested was also the father who unconditionally loved me in the reality that I disassembled his Hasselblad camera as a four-year-old, wrecked his Corvette as a University student, and never quite connected my actions as I grew with being responsibility. In his consistent love for me, I understand what it meant to love unconditionally.
Life is for living. The man on the bike loved life. It was always a good time to hit the throttle, bang through the gears, and let it hang. Wrecking the car on concrete planters was a way of expressing joy, just remember to pick up the car-trim pieces before leaving. When I think of living, extraordinary road trips, go-karts, motorcycles, and going out of the way to experience an opportunity with family were normal. There was little traditional in the seized opportunities while living life to the max. Friends, old and new, were welcomed, accepted, and soon integral to what followed.
Life is never perfect. Details matter, not perfection. Living is being fully committed to one’s best, celebrating and learning concurrently, and doing better with the next opportunity.
Few knew the man on the bike was introspective. With tears, he struggled through many dark nights of the soul. In my early years, he often lost out to his demons. I watched him grow to embrace Paul’s words; “Work hard for sin your whole life and your pension is death. But God’s gift is real life, eternal life, delivered by Jesus, our Master.” (Romans 6.23)
I knew the man on the bike as Dad. He has left this life and me behind for now. I live with hope and an example of real living. Thank you Dad, for everything.
