Travels with Father (and Sister and Mother)

One of the great things about my folks is that they liked to travel. As a matter of fact, they still do, but that's another issue. Even though they had us two kids, they figured that they'd better do it while they could, and summer vacation each year included a journey somewhere in the US. The first trip I remember was a family journey to Acadia National Park in Maine when I was six years old. Great place, I still remember it.

From then on, we went to a different place every year. I've been from Montreal to Nashville and New York to San Francisco. The great battlefields of the civil war and the cities and villages and towns that gave birth to the nation. Only trouble was, I was too young to remember most of it. Instead of coherent movies, my memories are like tapestries blowing in the breeze, the scenes fading in and out of each other as the winds of time ripple the fabric of my mind. But I've seen the country and the country is wonderful.

Getting to do all that traveling was a wonderful thing for a child. Unfortunately, I never really realized how wonderful it was. I struggle now to remember all the wonderful places I have been. Would like to go back to many of them and see them again with the eye of an adult.

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