Dad Was a Traveller
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Thoughts of my father on the occasion of his passing.\\n\\n
Some say you spend your entire life preparing for the inevitable moment when you have to speak at your father\\u2019s memorial service. Today is that day and now is that time. Given that lifetime of preparation, I hope you\\u2019ll indulge me\\u200a\\u2014\\u200agrant me the luxury of a little of your time\\u200a\\u2014\\u200aas I take you on a ride through Dad\\u2019s life as seen from the perspective of his younger son.
\\n\\nThe first really concrete, vivid, fully-articulated memory of my father was in 1969 when he came home and announced that instead of doing the sensible thing, and flying to a conference to present some of his medical research findings, we were going to drive there. He pitched it as a fun, family adventure. The catch? It wasn\\u2019t going to be a few hours to Ottawa or Toronto, and even an international junket to New York or Boston. No, all those destinations were strictly for dilettantes. The five of us, Mum and Dad and the three kids, were going to shoehorn ourselves into our brand new Dodge Dart\\u200a\\u2014\\u200athankfully equipped with the relatively rare luxury, for the time, of air conditioning\\u200a\\u2014\\u200aand we were going to drive to...
\\n\\nListen to the rest by clicking the play button, above. The text version of this essay can be found on Medium where it was published contemporaneously. (photo: author)
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