Fractured Fathers

It was not until the age of 60 that I set out on a long motorcycle ride, a Montana to Alaska ride. I knew that I would ride long periods. I did not know that I would dwell on my most vexing, suppressed problems. I did not know that the epic motorcycle ride would change the way I thought about my relationships and myself. The concept of fractured fathers came to me early in the trip. Fractured fathers, wounded men, preoccupied me.I am a fractured father, deeply torn, deeply hurt, deeply...
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It was not until the age of 60 that I set out on a long motorcycle ride, a Montana to Alaska ride. I knew that I would ride long periods. I did not know that I would dwell on my most vexing, suppressed problems. I did not know that the epic motorcycle ride would change the way I thought about my relationships and myself. The concept of fractured fathers came to me early in the trip. Fractured fathers, wounded men, preoccupied me.I am a fractured father, deeply torn, deeply hurt, deeply agitated. I am fractured from being deserted by my father, but not fatally so. In ironic and odd ways I am the person I am because of it. I am more fractured by what Tanya, my daughter, has done. She inflicted a deadly, hurtful blow, an uncanny and an unexpected blow. When I rode through the Montana portal, the change began. About 6500 kilometres later when I rode back through the Montana portal, fractured fathers rode with me. Fractured fathers repeatedly and persistently crossed my path. They forced me to confront critical issues, think deeply about my life and purpose, question and answer who I am.