The memories of our family outings continue to be a source of immense strength for me. I vividly recall us all piling into the car, though I can’t recall the make or model. We embarked on long drives, with our destination always uncertain. Along the way, we passed by trees and possibly some road signs. The air was filled with a strong scent as we engaged in our chosen game or song to pass the time. Sometimes, it was the waving sticks or a net thingy. I remember a larger, older man we affectionately referred to as “Dad,” “Bud,” or “Steve.” We would eat something, or maybe not, and then we would likely head home. It seems that some memories remain etched in our hearts forever. Oh, Canada, Mexico, perhaps Albuquerque in the near future. Hot as in potato. Denver always an omelette of choice. I think we saw squirrels and a half-eaten Whoopi Pie! Just saying…