It’s been so long since we traveled together. The last time you and I shared the open road was in May 2008. It will not be an easy trip, daddy, because you won’t be there to be my navigator, albeit always a sleeping navigator.
We will be going to the Grand Canyon, also, daddy. If not for you, I would not have even cared enough to brave the elements with this delicate integumentary system you gifted me. It was our nights watching the stars that make me yearn for nature, even when I’m allergic to most all that isn’t me (and even then I could swear I cause myself allergic reactions).
I will be going to Hoover Dam, which I know I could have learned about from you, your extensive reading and curiosity having probed beyond the pamphlet teaser. I will have to probe on my own this time, daddy.
But don’t worry, daddy. You’ve imbued my life with sufficient love of learning and active thinking that you WILL be there with me. I owe you much of what my life has become and though I will miss you eternally, I will honor your wishes and accept the cycle of life with gratitude for having had you in my life for as long as I did.
I’ve you, daddy. I always will. And with every other path I walk upon, your love and spirit will be by my side. In California, I will look to the stars and moon, from a different city, and remember our countless nights watching the night sky. You will be there with me, for you are always in my heart.