Sitting in my tiny home on wheels, feeling the warmth of freedom, I sip my coffee while reading a book in the park. In front of me is a book with a page holder that I bought for my dad and to the side is a steaming thremos of coffee I brewed here at the park. My dad was an avid park and lake dweller who would read, drink coffee and nap for hours in the car.
As I was reading, I got caught in my thoughts, as a vision of me as my dad, in that exact moment, took over my emotions. I am his daughter, so very much so. We were so alike in so many ways. Our insatiable yen for road trips. Our ability to make friends in the most benign and obscure places. Wanting to get out on the road for the day we would often traded loving persiflage, probably the result of us both being hangry…lol. We would always find a new delicious place to eat on the adventure giving rest to the banter while we ate a good lunch. He would then make the kind server make fresh pot of coffee that was hotter than the fires of hell and damnation. I would convince my dad to split dessert, insisting that I didn’t want to a whole slice of creamcheese pecan pie. After several forkfuls my dad would say firmly, “Lori, just get your own piece of pie!” and then I would.
Sitting here in the park, I am so grateful for all that my mom and dad have passed down to me in my forty eight years. I am beautiful blend of both of them.
Lovingly,
~L
“Afoot and light-hearted I take to the open road, healthy, free, the world before me.”
~Walt Whitman
Wildflowers Lori 