Sunday is Day 18 of my 90-day journey around the United States.
More importantly, it’s Father’s Day.
I thought all week about writing that my Dad is a big reason why I’ve embarked on this journey.
Yes, that’s true … but my ties to my Dad go much deeper than that.
Everyone that’s met him knows that my Dad is the man. He’s the best chef ever to step foot on Long Island, and if you've eaten something fantastic on the Island in the last 40 years, it’s highly likely my Dad played a part in it.
In January, my sister, her boyfriend and I brought my Dad and his pair of bum knees to Disney World for his first time -- memories still immensely fresh in my mind.
And if you’re connected with me on any type of social media platform, you’ve almost certainly seen photos of me and my Dad out on the golf course -- sometimes on Long Island, sometimes in Binghamton. We get out every opportunity we have, and I’m bummed I won’t get to outdrive him tomorrow.
In his younger days, my Dad always dreamed of traveling. In fact, I’m sure a big part of him still does. I’ve talked to him a lot about the journey he took as a young man to California, and my genetic wanderlust played a big part in my annual late-August week-long solo journeys prior to #TeamStrub.
My Dad turned 60 in Orlando; I’m on the brink of 29. It’s no secret I have dreams of becoming a father myself, and in 10 years, I hope to be telling my kid(s?) about the time Daddy drove around the United States.
And as a kid, all you hear is “you can be anything you want to be.” You better believe I plan to tell my kids they can be anything they want to be -- but before those conversation come about, I’m going to be what I want to be.
And so, Dad, I’m sorry I won’t be home this Father’s Day; but rest assured, this summer, and in Nashville tomorrow, I’ll be preparing to be able to pass on to my future kids the same message you passed on to me: that they can be anything they want to be.
Happy Father’s Day, Papa Doc. I love you, I miss you, I’ll see you soon -- and remember, even if you're not here with me today, I couldn't do this without you.