The man pictured to the right is my dad. My hero. For words that I’m not ready to write and not quite sure when I will be, this man has been my hero since I was two.
And last week he upped the ante and reminded me why he’s my hero.
Since I was about ten, my parents have loved riding motorcycles – Harleys to be exact. It was their thing. Last Saturday I got the call that I’d had nightmares about for almost 20 years – they were in a motorcycle accident – together. In the span of 5 seconds I could have lost my entire family. The only two people in the world that I know and have known since day one have loved me every single minute of my life.
I wasn’t there so I don’t know the full story, but I got the rundown from my mom (obviously no pun intended). On a lazy afternoon ride on a country road, their bike veered around a curve and into the other lane. They ran into a truck – going ~ 45 – 50mph. In an attempt to handle the bike and make sure my mom who was riding on the back, didn’t go flying off, this hero of mine somehow managed to bring the bike to a stop, safely. Well about as safe as it could have turned out given the situation.
Hearing my mom’s recount of the incident merely reiterates two facts I already knew, but maybe I had forgotten. One, and most importantly that God was with them. He sent an angel along for the ride that afternoon and thank the Lord that angel kept them safe. I can’t say thank you enough in my prayers because tears start to well up at the very thought of possibly losing one of my parents. Two, is that my dad is the hero I always knew he was. Growing up in school they always asked who our heroes were and while everyone else would say Abe Lincoln or their Uncle the firefighter, I always said my dad. And here is bonafide proof that is still is and always will be my hero.
Mom and Dad – Love you. Love me.
Daddy – here’s to a quick recovery and hoping we can go snowboarding again someday. I love you. Thank you for everything. Since day one.
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