The Road to Understanding
When Dad sold his shop and took off on a Harley, I felt abandoned. At 42, buried in bills, I couldn’t understand why he chose the open road over helping me.
After Mom died, I expected him to stay. Instead, he followed a promise—to keep living.
Before he left, he handed me a check. Not out of duty, but love.
When he returned, full of peace, I apologized. He smiled and said, “Now you see me.”
In his healing, I found mine too.