Country Views: A Search For Solace

Escape Route: Dead end of Falls Avenue.

 This week has been a tale of mountain-top highs and the deepest valleys. A whirlwind of emotions and things to take care of, including ourselves. (If you just clicked in here and you don't know the context of these statements, see HERE)

We had a slew of visitors which I and my family really did appreciate, but I was itching to ride a bicycle since I hadn't ridden at all for three days. Which, I know, doesn't sound like much, but combined with my current situation, I was in desperate need of some mind-cleansing and a chance to do some reflecting on the tragedy.

So, I cleared out some time on Tuesday afternoon to get on my bicycle and ride. I chose the single speed Honeman Flyer. I decided to head out North of town, despite the Southerly wind, and see the old church at the corner of Burton and Marquise Road. 

The first gravel I'd ridden on in quite a while. (For me, at any rate)

Looking up Mount Vernon Road to the West

It was a typical Summer day. Hot, not too humid, and breezy. I headed up out of town on Burton Road with the thought in the back of my head saying, "Be careful! The last thing we need is another tragedy or trouble!" I was extra nervous around cars. More than normal. Maybe it is a good fear, and a heightened awareness maybe was due. 

Local honey for sale here. Take a jar, leave your cash. 

I started rolling over what happened Saturday morning in my head, but I had to shut those thoughts down. It's very difficult to ride a bicycle with tears in your eyes, as it turns out. My thoughts have been to consider my time with my son as a blessing. Something I never thought would happen when I was younger, and an experience that was, for the most part, very enjoyable. Things could have gone very differently. I just need to look around me to see many examples of this, including my own relationship with my father. 

First rest stop.

My experience didn't last as long as many other father-son relationships have. But I'm okay with what I was blessed to have. I didn't deserve such a thing in the first place, and the way it turned out for Jacob, well, I thought it was a smashing success.

I mean, I considered what I was doing at 22 years of age, and what preceded those days for me. Whew! Yeah.... Let's just say I'm very fortunate to have lived through it. I shouldn't have, Jacob should have. Life isn't fair. You do what you can with what you have, and hopefully you maximize your potential, not squander it. Jacob did the former, I did the latter.

Things are not looking so great up at East Janesville Church these days. 

The road goes forever on and on down from the door where it began.... (JRR Tolkien)

I had a long bit of thought during this ride. I wondered aloud why some things Jacob did, which I felt were awesome, were making me cry. Why? Because I am selfish. I won't get to experience those things again. But shouldn't I be happy I did get to experience those things when I consider them in the future? Shouldn't those things make me happy, put a smile on my face, and bring me joy instead? 

Can it be both things at the same time? Mountain-top highs, and deepest valleys......

 

I turned East on Marquise Road, flew down the hill with the wind in my face. It was a beautiful day out. One of those you yearn to experience on a bicycle ride, if you are like I am. The crickets sang there creaky songs in the weeds and the wind masked everything else. Vehicles would appear, seemingly out of nowhere, from behind me. Lazy dust clouds flew off into the ditches in the breeze. Dappled Sunlight chased me on the road going North, but now was rushing past me.

 

It's a big rock, but it isn't my Rock. 

I felt alive. I was breathing the fresh air. Wildfire smoke was cleansed from the area. Blue skies appeared on this day where before they were a washed out white. I was riding well. Better than I had expected. But I carried a weight on my soul which was heavy. I felt an emptiness inside. A big hole is healing. It will take time. It may never close up. I don't know. 

You can look at my son's life in one manner where it can be said he was cut short. He never had the experiences an adult person maybe should be able to have in life. He never held a woman close. He will never get to have children, as I have. But he won't have to bear the burdens of this World. The sadness, The heartache. The nights of worrying about those you love. Disease. Sickness. You get the picture.

I'm not angry. I am sad, yes, but I am glad he is free. He is Home now. 

And that is good.