A Memory

As a kid I remember one time my father taking me someplace in the car—except, for whatever reason, we both lost track of the bigger picture, and he ended up just driving while I was lost in thought looking out the window. At some point I must’ve “woke up” and said, Where are we going? Dad didn’t know. We were miles past the library or the YMCA, places he often dropped me off. It was a bit humbling, funny, but also poignant: spending that much time together where everything felt okay.