I stood there for what felt like an eternity, watching my son’s eager face. In his hands, he held more than just a newspaper ad—he held a dream, one I knew intimately. And painfully.

I didn’t give him an answer that night. Instead, I took him on a ride—my Harley, one helmet, one story at a time. I told him everything. About Mike. The laughter. The curve. The silence that followed. I didn’t spare the pain. But I didn’t hide the beauty either.

Days passed. Then weeks. And one evening, Joshua walked into the garage, held up a motorcycle safety course flyer, and said, “I signed up. I want to ride, Dad—but smart. Like you taught me.”

My heart broke and healed all at once.

I still hear the crash in my dreams. But now, I also hear my son’s voice, steady and full of purpose, reminding me that fear doesn’t protect us—wisdom does.

𝗟𝗲𝘀𝘀𝗼𝗻: We can’t shield those we love from every danger, but we can prepare them with truth, wisdom, and love. Sometimes, the greatest protection is teaching someone how to face the road, not how to avoid it.