I love my biker father more than anything in this world. Past tense? No. Present tense. I love my biker father. Because love doesn’t die when someone does. It transforms. It becomes something bigger, something eternal.
Dad missed walking me down the aisle. But he’s been walking beside me every day since. And he’ll walk beside Harper too, this little girl who’ll never meet him but will know him through every story I tell and every ride we take together.
So yeah, I love my biker father. I always will. And every time I ride, every time I hear that engine roar, every time I feel that freedom, I hear his voice one more time:
“Ride free, Little Wing. Ride free.”
And I do, Dad. I do.
For both of us.
