Wanting Memories

Friday night was rough.

A friend remarked how much he missed his dad. 

It doesn’t take much to open the floodgates on Father’s Day weekend.  The emotions had been building for weeks as promotional flyers offering Father’s Day “Specials” filled my mailbox.  There were gift suggestions, recipes especially for dad, dad this, dad that.

My father died twenty-four years ago.  Been missing him daily ever since.  Father’s Day weekend?  It’s a fearsome, searing longing.

Friday night was rough.  Emotions bubbled to the surface in waves of loud, very loud, very raw music.  Tears.  Wine glass after wine glass.  Red-rimmed eyes at dawn.

* * *

I’d begun training in earnest several weeks ago for a Century ride.  I was to cycle for three hours Saturday (40-45 miles).  As a cyclist, one begins studying weather forecasts in earnest.  Matters such as temperature, wind speed/direction and thunderstorms become more significant.  I knew that riding as early as possible Saturday morning was my only chance for something other than a hellish venture.  As matters stood, even at dawn, the temperature was climbing rapidly towards what was to be a high of 90-plus degrees.  It was humid and a steady south wind was already shaking the trees at 10+ mph.  It was to grow windier as the day progressed and powerful storms muscled into the area. 

Sleepless though I was, red-rimmed eyes notwithstanding.  I saddled up.

I suppose it was a good thing I was kinda numb at the outset.  I planned to ride some twenty miles straight south, into that stiff wind, so that the return ride on tired legs wouldn’t be as taxing.  I hadn’t yet ventured that far south this season.  I figured I’d explore new roads, given that my training program will have me travel ever greater distances over the course of the summer.

South is a good direction for me.  To my south are endless fields, few people, very few towns.  The farms grow more expansive.  Nearer the city, the rural areas are dotted with hobby farms.  The big money food factories are deeper in the hinterlands.  I rode myself into “big sky” country...vast fields undulating under wide open skies.

The sun had risen appreciably over the course of an hour, but the slanting light remained gorgeously saturated still.  Stretched before me were hay fields shorn earlier.  Rolls and bales were waiting patiently to be transported.  As they waited, they exhaled their perfume, one of my all-time favorite aromas. 

And so it came to be that I became lost in celestial light, heavenly scents, evidence of earth’s bounty and magnificence.  And I began to hear inside my head, a song that I have long loved:

Wanting Memories

I am sitting here wanting memories to teach me,
To see the beauty in the world through my own eyes.
I am sitting here wanting memories to teach me,
To see the beauty in the world through my own eyes.
You used to rock me in the cradle of your arms,
You said you'd hold me till the pains of life were gone.
You said you'd comfort me in times like these and now I need you,
Now I need you, and you are gone.
I am sitting here wanting memories to teach me,
To see the beauty in the world through my own eyes.
Since you've gone and left me, there's been so little beauty,
But I know I saw it clearly through your eyes.
Now the world outside is such a cold and bitter place,
Here inside I have few things that will console.
And when I try to hear your voice above the storms of life,
Then I remember all the things that I was told.
I am sitting here wanting memories to teach me,
To see the beauty in the world through my own eyes.
I am sitting here wanting memories to teach me,
To see the beauty in the world through my own eyes.
I think on the things that made me feel so wonderful when i was young.
I think on the things that made me laugh, made me dance, made me sing.
I think on the things that made me grow into a being full of pride.
I think on these things, for they are true.
I am sitting here wanting memories to teach me,
To see the beauty in the world through my own eyes.
I thought that you were gone, but now I know you're with me,
You are the voice that whispers all I need to hear.
I know a please a thank you and a smile will take me far,
I know that I am you and you are me and we are one,
I know that who I am is numbered in each grain of sand,
I know that I've been blessed again, and over again.
I am sitting here wanting memories to teach me,
To see the beauty in the world through my own eyes.
I am sitting here wanting memories to teach me,
To see the beauty in the world through my own eyes.

* * *      

Thank you, Father, for these tears of gratitude.

* * *