Silent Retreat, a Road Bike, and My Dad's Legacy
Silent retreat has been a meaningful part of my life since I returned to Milwaukee n 2016, and it has become even more important since my dad died in 2022. My dad used to attend silent retreat at the same retreat house, and after he died, my mom, a silent retreatant herself, dedicated a swing in his name.
One of the last full conversations my dad and I had before he died was about the first road bike I was shopping for. I wanted to save money and buy a used one, but I had fallen in love with a brand new Trek Domane. "Liz, you love this sport, so buy the bike you'll grow into," he told me. That's one of the last full sentences I ever heard my dad say.
A few weeks after he died, I bought the Domane. A few months later, I completed my first 100-mile century ride on a rainy, windy Sunday with some of my closest cycling friends. My dad never got to see me on my first road bike or cross that finish line, so I rode up to his swing this weekend to show him my bike.
The grief I feel since losing my dad hasn't stopped. His death is something I didn't think I'd survive, but I did. Silent retreat has been a crucial part of my healing process, giving me the space and time to reflect on his life, our relationship, and the ways his memory lives on.
Although he's no longer here, my dad's words of encouragement and support still guide me. I'm grateful for the time we had together, and I know he'd be proud to see me riding on the road with the Domane. The swing that bears his name is a constant reminder to live life to the fullest while taking time to pause and reflect, just as he did.
