Dad, I wish you could be here to talk with me about Maine. I went up to St. Francis, Fort Kent and Allagash with Uncle Peter at the end of September. We didn't get to see everyone--it was only a weekend--but I've been wanting to go for a long time. It's just been hard to make the trip since my last plans to go were for your reunion, the one that came the summer after you left.The leaves were in full color. You'd have loved the trip. I learned more about you, more that makes me proud, more that makes me want to learn more. Though nothing can make up for missing out on you, this trip reminded me how easy it is to be in touch--or out of touch. My aunts and uncles and cousins brought you to life in their voices or hints of the accent you mostly left behind, or in the food that makes me smile at you. I keep telling your story, Dad. I keep listening for it too.
