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Traveling to Canada with my Dad
My dad and I meant to drive up to British Columbia and Seattle when he visited the previous year, 2011, but when he arrived, I was suffering from appendicitis. So instead of traveling with me to Canada, my dad stayed with me in Portland for two weeks, never mind that I seemed to recuperate from surgery quickly. My dad’s planning was great: I was in pain for two days before he arrived and took me to the doctor… and to the hospital.
Post-surgery, the visit was pleasant, because my dad stayed longer than usual, and I showed him around Portland neighborhoods he hadn’t yet seen. We even went to Vancouver, Washington (a small town across the Columbia River from Portland) one Sunday when an arts and crafts fair happened to be taking place downtown.
Ever since he retired, my dad took road trips to visit his adult children. He liked traveling by car (Prius) because the car is like a giant suitcase. In other words, it was easier to pack a car than a suitcase. I believe he felt more in control driving his own car instead of taking a bus, train, or plain and relying on other peoples’ travel schedules. Plus he didn’t want to endure post-9/11 security — which I have no trouble understanding, considering my many post-9/11 flights.
A few months after my appendix surgery, my dad called because his sister Barbara was found dead in her condo in Cambridge…