For many years, Dan and I have ventured off together each Summer for a week or so on our motorcycles. A few minor stopping points of interest were typically determined in advance. But most of our planning involved only a general direction, an approximate path, and a shared understanding of when we needed to be home.

We would both load our motorcycles with a week’s worth of clothing and riding gear. I would carry a collection of cameras and lenses on my bike, while Dan would add extra fuel and an assortment of tools to his. The beautiful scenery we always encountered would give me plenty of reason to use my photography gear. And often, Dan’s tool collection would be useful as family tradition seems to include Dan’s bike breaking down on the side of a road in a completely deserted section of our trip.

We learned new things, saw incredible sights and views, met new people, discovered new places, encountered wild animals, hiked unexplored turf, ate great food, rode through rain, fog, and snow, and mapped the locations of some really helpful motorcycle repair shops!

These trips were what Mom always called, “A mother’s nightmare.” And while we knew she was worrying about us, we also knew she was proud that we were living our lives as she taught us; continually learning, experiencing the world, being curious, expanding our knowledge, and most importantly, always caring for and looking out for each other.

These are just some of the things that she was always teaching us while growing up in the Tryon household. Summer vacations, dinner at home, playing in the yard, visiting relatives, cleaning the barn, taking risks by the pond, or whatever was filling our days, she was always setting the example for us to be curious, to learn, to listen, to understand, and to love and care for each other deeply. Never was this more evident than in the remarkable relationship of trust, respect, and love that she shared with Dad. And across the years, whether near or far, Mom’s love continuously embraced us, was felt within us, and reminded us that there was no greater importance than the love and connection of family.

Her example will continue to guide our paths. And her half-hearted joking about “A Mother’s Nightmare” will always be my reminder of the importance of remaining vulnerable and curious, while always being embraced by the security and love of family.

Our next “Mother’s Nightmare” begins in two weeks and our wives have decided to join us for this experience. I’ll be bringing my cameras which I plan to use often. Dan will have his tools which I hope we don’t use at all. And whatever the experience holds for us and through all the days that follow, the deep and abiding love that Mom gave to all of us without reservation, will always remain within us.

We miss you, Mom, but we always feel your love. Thank you for the blessing of your life with us, and for teaching us, as you shared in your last words to Dan and I, that “…love is what it is all about.”

— by Steven J. Tryon and read by Rev. Richard Sivers at the Celebration of Life for June R. Tryon, June 25, 2022.