This soft music… your soft music and the car windows rolling down and moon light and all of that
I think roads and sleeping bags and candles and boat trips and Ireland and all the things I can think until I can’t think anymore
I want to see my father again, and perhaps I will watch him on wrldmrine…
I want to see my father again eating eggs on the sundeck.
Painting pictures late at night.
There was one of Gavin… my son.
He flew out a few times, once in Belgium and we got a bunch of Hoogardaen beer and he met the Schneider’s
He painted pictures and us
Later Chris flew out, and we took a boat ride with him.
You should have seen us, banging all up and down the san juans and the Gulf Islands…
My son, Chris, my father and I
Sort of like driving about Ireland with my sister Laura.

I miss it.

And can’t explain it.