I’ve had my share of big, vibrant moments that I’ll cherish for my whole life—the incredible coincidences, the days spent with great friends, the celebrations and achievements. But it’s the quieter moments that always seem to hit home the hardest. I was reminded of that when, after 18 months of not being able or willing to get on a plane to Texas, my vaccinated ass (get your vaccine, y’all) flew home in search of a few small moments with my dad.
Before my move, my dad and I used to have weekly dinners. We’d discuss a wide variety of topics, but by the end would circle back to our favorites: basketball, photography, and the latest non-alcoholic beers he had tried. Maybe it’s no surprise that we picked up those conversational threads again during our first shared dinner in forever. Over Mexican food at a restaurant I’ve been going to for most of my 33 years, we talked about the Dallas Mavericks, his recent photography trip to Big Bend, and a few new NA options from Bravus Brewing Company that he was excited about.
Later in the week, after delicious breakfast tacos his wife Cheryl had prepared, we sat in the living room of my childhood home and he showed me a few photos from that trip to Big Bend. Between exposure and lens talk, we sat and savored those small moments. The energy they created enveloped us, and will preserve those new memories—a father sharing a passion that was passed on to his son, a son continuing to listen and learn from his father—forever.
I love you, Dad.
