Going Home

I geared up this morning and went out for a little ride. Just me and the pissed off bumble bee. I had seen a video earlier that had me crying. Images of Soldiers coming home flashed on the screen to the lyrics of "Home" by Daughtry. I must have watched the video ten times. Each time the chorus would be sung. Something welled up within me. It is a mixture of rage for most people don't truly know what coming home means to these men and women. I rage further as I have seen these men come home to wives that hand them divorce papers after being gone two years. They just don't want to be there anymore. Love to these people is just about the good times. They don't want to face the brutality of war once it walks in their front door. Then hurt wells up inside. For these Warriors are now left to their own resolve. Most gut up and make it. Alas though they have been killed by love after surviving in a desert hell.



There are images of young kids embracing their fathers. Little princesses being hugged by their daddy's. I found myself smiling and crying at the same time. Those princesses just filled the heart of a warrior with the love he had missed so. I had seen these home comings often when we lived in California. When it was my job to be there to greet the Warriors of our day. I never got just how huge it was for these people until today. More emotions welled up as I sat there fixed on the images. Then the words made it into me. Holy shit batman talk about having your desire stirred up. I have posted a the link to the song with the lyrics. Listen and read them. If you know me. You will understand.



Since January of this year my wife of 15 years as well as our three great kids have felt completely lost in where our hearts were, as well as where they should be. All our friends we had here are now gone. We haven't been in a church since before Halloween. Our best friend was completely butt darted by a body of people calling themselves "Christians." Peeps, I am schooled in what this definition means. I know what we are called to do with that title. What happened is far from church and even humane. This story closes with the last person that I trusted out here outside of my wife packing his shit and moving home to TX.



The video was becoming a little too much reality for me. Hence the ride. I loaded the song on my mp3 player and headed out to Chapel Canyon. As I rode I saw "How these places and these faces are getting old." As I turned right off of hwy 27 to Chapel Canyon the song started over again.

This road is best described as an old country road that winds, twists and has missing pavement in crucial parts of the road. Like the apex of a corner. It is my "Salvation Road" I guess. I rode hard through the first section dragging my knee ever so slightly on the pavement. The last part of the first section is a left hand turn that is marked 15 mph. I came into listening to "Be careful of what you wish for as you just might get it all. " I looked down and I was at 131 mph. I down shifted to 3rd gear let my ass end slide out a little. I threw my ass off the seat, knee out, shoulders bearing down on the bars, elbows out to air brake. As I made that corner I felt my foot peg drag the ground. I came out of the corner, grabbed a handful of throttle. My back tire spun in protest. My front end came up in a bitchen wheelie. I hung with my ass half off the bike riding this out. Thinking "Oh Shit I am going home. But it isn't Cali" It was like this intense rush of adrenaline combined with sexual euphoria. Some would say it was surreal. The lyric playing when my front wheel came down was " I don't regret this life I chose for me. These places and these faces are getting old.



Common sense would lead one to pull over and check to see if he left his breakfast in his shorts. I am not common. I do have a lot of sense. I just choose to have it at high rates of speed.. I grabbed more throttle as I came onto the straight away. My dash lighting up as I red lined the lil beast. The next corner brings you into a small town in the middle of no where called Hope. I slowed down and coasted through town. went by the fire station I usually stop at as my mind and heart were into the song and the road.



I picked up speed as I headed into the canyon. Dropping 2000 feet from the top of the hill to the bottom as ice carpeted the side of the road. I pushed it a little further. At the bottom of the hill is a corner that is a hairpin off camber turn. I usually diamond this corner. Meaning.. Ya'll can google that one. I came into the corner looking way ahead towards a bridge on the other side of the trees. Remember earlier when I said this canyon is missing key pieces of pavement. Well this is where. At 90 mph's all I saw was dirt and gravel on the whole corner. I couldn't diamond, nor could I slide my knee. As I would wash out the front end and become a tree dart. Locking up both front and rear brakes when riding isn't a good thing. I had no choice. The damn song in my head was starting to piss me off now as the words were again perfect for the moment.



As you can tell I made it through the corner. Rode the rest of the canyon in a civil manner never exceeding more than 178 mph. Come on people. Have you seen me and my bike. It is made to haul ass. I have no ass according to my wife. So it works some how. The canyon leads out to the Old Palouse highway. I pulled over took my helmet off and had a smoke. Just looking at the surroundings. It was at that moment when I looked to the east and back to the west I realized just how much love my wife has for me. That her desire is to watch me do what I love. As that is my desire for her and my kids. To be "Home" where our hearts are filled. We have run too many years now.



We all know where our home is. We tried to make "home" here but the door has closed. We don't belong. I sat back with the sun beating down on me. Just looking into the sky. Listening to the words of the song one more time. In my mind I saw the day my wife and I met. Our Wedding, the birth of our first child, the birth of my son as my younger brother stood with me. I saw the day it was all taken away. Then I saw the day Theresa and I fell back in love. The tears in her eyes and mine as we tore up the divorce papers. My mind wandered to a Christmas three days after our youngest was born. The last time I have seen my own father. His laughter and joy at being grandpa.

These moments didn't occur in Spokane. They all came from being home. In the place where we belong. "Where love has always been enough." Where I can once again watch a Warrior come home and hug his princess and queen in person. Where those that guide me don't bridle me. They love our family as their own. For they know the tears cried when one realizes they are not at home.

S/F
Smokin Chaplain