My father lives about nine hours away, which means I don't see him much. He used to travel back to the Burgh a few times a year, but as he has gotten older and his knees and hips cooperate less, the long drive has become more difficult and has occurred less often. Last year was the first time since he moved south that he did not make back this way this way. Fortunately, I was able to spend a little time with my dad when I went to visit my brother and his family just over a week ago, since they live about an hour apart. Of course, it is never enough, since I tend to be about quantity, not quality. But when traveling is not your thing, you have to take what you can get. Regardless, today I am thinking of my dad. Even though our relationship has had its ups and downs (when your parents divorce, this is almost inevitable), I think we are in a pretty good place (even if we are not in the same place). I had a really great childhood growing up, the kind that most kids envy, I am sure...
The various, and usually long-winded, thoughts that swim around my head.