I don’t believe that people change. It’s something I argue
with friends and family about. I know that we can learn how to avoid the
mistakes we typically make and that we can change habits in order to create
change, but I believe that people are pretty much fundamentally who they will
always be.
I have a lot to be grateful for because of what stayed the
same in Dad, namely his desire to travel. That inspired me, made me curious,
and even became a piece of the part of me that refuses to change—the bit that
loves to travel and can’t get enough of it. This month, I was in San Francisco.
This wasn’t my first trip there. This summer, I’m going to Yellowstone (and a
few other places Dad would love). While discussing my upcoming trip to San Francisco
earlier this month, Mom told me this:
“Your Dad had been through San Francisco briefly while in the
Army. We just got so caught up in California, Arizona and New Mexico that we
didn't have time to do it justice….all in all we always wished we'd seen San Francisco
and Yellowstone too, but had seen so much of this fabulous country, we were
pleased with trip we did make.”
She was describing the trip they took for their honeymoon.
Mom still talks about the Grand Canyon, all of these decades later, a wing of
that trip.
As I walked all over San Francisco on my last morning there,
I appreciated the views a bit more, I sipped my coffee slowly—Dad would have
loved how damn strong it was!—and I took my time. When I walked around Paris
last spring, I posed for a picture in front of a shop called Pelletier. I
smiled as I shivered in the rain and looked at Rodin’s sculptures. I spoke
French. And I took my time.
As the sixth anniversary of Dad’s death arrives, I am making
a point to slow down—as I wish time would—and to enjoy the things that don't
change.
