In a couple of weeks I will be going to Louisville, Kentucky for a photo shoot at one of our buildings to be featured in the customer magazine. The very instant my boss told me about this, the first thought that crossed my mind was to tell Dad. If he had been to Louisville—which he probably had—he would have had maps and coupons out within minutes. If he hadn’t been there, he would still know some obscure facts about it and look everything up for me. He would plan my itinerary out down to the hour, or he would even find some way to make it a family vacation.
I’ve been poking around online to find out what exactly there is to do in Louisville, and I came across a lot of funky little museums and tourist attractions I know he would have loved. The Louisville Slugger museum and factory, home of the official MLB bat; an auto museum, the likes of which he has dragged my mom and I to countless times; the Kentucky Derby grounds and museum, a race he bet on every year. I actually had to stop looking at these websites because it was all making me so sad. Even something as exciting and out of the ordinary as a business trip to Kentucky, my first business trip ever, is tainted because I can’t tell my dad about it. I wouldn’t even be going on it if he were still here.
Bottom line, I miss him. Bottom line, every single thing around me, every aspect of the world, reminds me of him. And I still just cannot believe he’s gone.