I
Zion
is an interesting word full of symbolism. Originally it was a mountain outside
of Jerusalem, but over the years the word has taken on the meaning of a utopian
society where everyone lives in peace and cares for each other both spiritually
and temporally. Several religious groups seek to establish “Zion” where their
followers can be free from the toil and trouble of the world. My goal for the
day was not so lofty. I simply wanted to ride trouble free from Gilbert, AZ, to
Zion National Park in Southern Utah, and then on to Provo, Utah, the next day.
 |
| Riding into the storm with lightning in the clouds |
I
met up with Tom and Tim, two of my riding buddies, and we headed northbound
watching the sun come up over the mountains. As we climbed in elevation, I
listened to the playlist of 80’s music my daughter helped me put together the
night before. Back in the day when I was listening to those songs, the world
was full of gloom and doom—the Cold War, hostages in Iran, nuclear winter, etc.
I never expected my life to turn out as good as it has. Lately, however, I feel
like the best days are behind me. It’s a nagging feeling that lurks in the back
of my head like some dirty thought I have disciplined into the recesses of my
mind in an attempt to remain virtuous and can’t seem to shake. Tomorrow doesn’t
hold the promise that it used to, but today I am on my motorcycle climbing a
winding mountain road watching the sunrise with friends. I have been blessed.
 |
| Three BMW R1200 RT motorcycles without riders |
My
grandson is inheriting a less than perfect world. Zion is still just some
ethereal place longed for by the faithful. The world is still full of conflict,
trouble, and despair. I hope he gets to experience some of the great things I
have experienced and that his life will be better than mine. I hope the world
he inherits from my generation is a better place than the world I inherited,
but when I watch the news I can tell that our world is still a long way from
Zion. Maybe Zion will be possible in his lifetime.
Riding
motorcycles is risky, but that’s part of the enjoyment. Having a baby is also
risky. Women shake hands with the Grim Reaper to bring a child into this world.
Sometimes the Grim Reaper wants more than a handshake, and women have to slap
him across the face. Only a mother can understand what if feels like to stare
death in the face in order to produce life. Only a mother understands the
physical cost of delivering a child. Thankfully, we all benefit from a mother’s
risky endeavor and enjoy the fruits of her labor. Each child renews our hope
that tomorrow will be better than today.
We
traversed mountains, crossed the painted desert, and endured an afternoon
thundershower, but we arrived at Zion National Park without accident or
incident. The towering canyons of painted rocks against a blue sky reminded me
of majestic temples. Man may build tall towers and broad domes, but God’s works
of architecture are unrivaled.
 |
| Zion motorcycle selfie |
After
a long day of riding we enjoyed dinner (topped off with pie) and headed to bed.
My riding buddies were traveling in different directions the next day. I would
be traveling solo to meet my grandson.
A
thunderclap woke me up at 0454. I could hear the rain pelting the windows and
checked the radar. The only storm in Utah was right over my head. Fortunately,
I had recently purchased some good rain gear, and now my ounce of prevention
was worth a pound of cure. By 0600 the worst of the rain had passed and I
climbed on my bike in the dark. Tom waved at me from his hotel window as I
pulled out of the parking lot and rode off into the storm. I had an appointment
to meet my first grandson, and was determined not to let a little rain stop me.
However, I must admit that I took things a bit slower than usual, especially
when I passed flashing signs warning of deer. Would I make it without incident
or accident? Would meeting my first grandson be all that I hoped it would be?
As
I rode, I wondered how I was supposed to feel about being a grandfather.
Everyone tells me that being a grandparent is the best thing ever. My friends
say it’s much better than being a parent, or that grandkids are the payback for
all the struggles as a parent. I knew my wife was giddy, but I wasn’t sure how
I felt.
I
can honestly say that being a father is the best thing I have ever done. It has
brought me more joy and happiness than I ever expected. It has stretched me in
ways I never knew possible. As a father, my emotions have ranged between the
extremes—worry, fear, elation, joy, impatience, frustration, anger, and yes,
happiness beyond compare. I was afraid that being a grandfather might somehow
diminish the greatest experience of my entire life. I didn’t want to adopt some
cynical attitude about my struggles as a father because being a grandfather was
so much better. I wanted it to add to my joy, not diminish the struggle, or joy,
of fatherhood.
The
rain subsided and the sky burned with streaks of red, yellow, and orange as the
sun came up. I wasted no time and only stopped when I needed gas or a bathroom
break (which is more often than I like as I get older). Somewhere overhead my
wife was flying to Salt Lake City, and I needed to arrive around the same time
she did. Fortunately, I didn’t hit any of the deer the flashing signs warned me
about.
I
arrived ahead of schedule and traded the thrill of the motorcycle for the
safety of a rental car. When we pulled up to my son’s small basement apartment,
my wife was so excited that she jumped out of the car before it stopped
rolling. I took a deep breath and tried not to let my emotions get away from
me. I was holding it all in. How would I feel when I held my grandson? Would it
be everything my friends told me it would be? Would I take one look at that
beautiful baby and suddenly have disdain for my parental journey thus far?
Would I mock the years of struggle, the frustrating nights, and the moments of
sheer joy that fatherhood had brought me?
I
entered the apartment and found my grandson doing what newborn babies
do—crying, eating, sleeping, and filling diapers. I washed my hands and waited
my turn to hold him. When my daughter-in-law put him in my arms, all my fears
melted away. I found myself transported back to my early years as a father
pacing the floor with a crying baby and worrying how I was going to provide for
all his or her needs, but when I looked up at my grown son and his wife, the
sting of worry melted away.
I
suddenly got it. Being a grandparent is awesome because your children have
taken over the burden of the parental struggle. Grandparents are there to love,
support, and spoil. My years of parental happiness had not ended. They had
just been multiplied. I smiled and relaxed. |
| Escalante Staircase |
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