On Morocco (10/15/18)
Dear Daddy,
I got back from Morocco last night. I loved it there. You would have hated it (too much walking, not enough naps), but I loved it, especially Chefchaoen (the blue city). I thought of you every time I saw a fire hydrant, I even took a picture of a few of them for you. I saw a Moroccan firetruck in action but wasn't able to get a picture. I thought of you then, too.
On the trip, there were times when I felt like life was great, the way I usually feel when I am traveling. But then I'd remember. People were sharing stories of their parents, and none of them knew my pain. Older couples enjoying another vacation together reminded me that Mom will never get to go on another trip with you. I didn't want to be a "Debbie Downer", so I only brought it up when appropriate, which is always awkward. In my head, I kept you alive and at home. Out-loud, I spoke of you in the present. It wasn't, "My dad loved fire trucks" but "My dad loves fire trucks". I told them that you aren't here anymore, Daddy, but I didn't cry. Not once. There were so many times I was afraid I was going to cry, but I held it in for the whole trip.
But I am crying now. I held it all in and its coming out now. My thoughts are flying in all directions. This was my first time going to a new country and not coming back with a firetruck for you. I looked, I really did, but they don't seem to be a "thing" in Moroccan gift shops. Daddy, I didn't bring you anything. I got something for Mom and Nate, but I didn't get you something. I'm sorry, Daddy. They just didn't have fire trucks and I wasn't sure what to get. I saw a few hats I thought you would like, and sent the pictures to Harris. But I didn't buy you one. It wouldn't fit in my suitcase. We went by an orchard that grows the oranges used in a local marmalade, but I didn't buy you any, because as I went to grab a jar I remembered you were dead. Please don't be upset I didn't get you a gift. I just couldn't figure out what to get you, and I know you don't (didn't?) care if I got you a gift anyway. You would want to know about the trip.
Daddy, it was awesome. It was a exactly what I needed to be doing. I was able to spend a day completely lost in Chefchaoen. I didn't pay any attention to where I was going, I just went. I found a lot of great spaces. I took a lot of pictures. I also found myself in some not so great spaces, but I just kept walking. I found my way back to the center of the town, and spent the afternoon sketching in the garden of the Kasbah, I definitely rocked it (don't worry). I think that was the highlight of my trip, the time in Chefchaoen. I finally took a trip, and I finally got to go to Morocco!
I wouldn't have been able to go without your help. Thanks for saving all the soda bottles for me. Thanks for believing in my ridiculous goal and helping me towards it. I just wish I could tell you about it, show you the pictures, and give you a gift.
Thanks for believing in all my ridiculous goals and ideas, and always helping towards them; either by actively participating in my attainment of my dream, keeping tabs on my progress, and never doubting my drive.
I love you Daddy. There is so much more I want to tell you about, but I think I have to save it for another day. It will be pages and pages if I were to write it all now, and I don't want to cry anymore.
I love you all the way to Fisherville (no matter where I am in the world),
Alexa
I got back from Morocco last night. I loved it there. You would have hated it (too much walking, not enough naps), but I loved it, especially Chefchaoen (the blue city). I thought of you every time I saw a fire hydrant, I even took a picture of a few of them for you. I saw a Moroccan firetruck in action but wasn't able to get a picture. I thought of you then, too.
On the trip, there were times when I felt like life was great, the way I usually feel when I am traveling. But then I'd remember. People were sharing stories of their parents, and none of them knew my pain. Older couples enjoying another vacation together reminded me that Mom will never get to go on another trip with you. I didn't want to be a "Debbie Downer", so I only brought it up when appropriate, which is always awkward. In my head, I kept you alive and at home. Out-loud, I spoke of you in the present. It wasn't, "My dad loved fire trucks" but "My dad loves fire trucks". I told them that you aren't here anymore, Daddy, but I didn't cry. Not once. There were so many times I was afraid I was going to cry, but I held it in for the whole trip.
But I am crying now. I held it all in and its coming out now. My thoughts are flying in all directions. This was my first time going to a new country and not coming back with a firetruck for you. I looked, I really did, but they don't seem to be a "thing" in Moroccan gift shops. Daddy, I didn't bring you anything. I got something for Mom and Nate, but I didn't get you something. I'm sorry, Daddy. They just didn't have fire trucks and I wasn't sure what to get. I saw a few hats I thought you would like, and sent the pictures to Harris. But I didn't buy you one. It wouldn't fit in my suitcase. We went by an orchard that grows the oranges used in a local marmalade, but I didn't buy you any, because as I went to grab a jar I remembered you were dead. Please don't be upset I didn't get you a gift. I just couldn't figure out what to get you, and I know you don't (didn't?) care if I got you a gift anyway. You would want to know about the trip.
Daddy, it was awesome. It was a exactly what I needed to be doing. I was able to spend a day completely lost in Chefchaoen. I didn't pay any attention to where I was going, I just went. I found a lot of great spaces. I took a lot of pictures. I also found myself in some not so great spaces, but I just kept walking. I found my way back to the center of the town, and spent the afternoon sketching in the garden of the Kasbah, I definitely rocked it (don't worry). I think that was the highlight of my trip, the time in Chefchaoen. I finally took a trip, and I finally got to go to Morocco!
I wouldn't have been able to go without your help. Thanks for saving all the soda bottles for me. Thanks for believing in my ridiculous goal and helping me towards it. I just wish I could tell you about it, show you the pictures, and give you a gift.
Thanks for believing in all my ridiculous goals and ideas, and always helping towards them; either by actively participating in my attainment of my dream, keeping tabs on my progress, and never doubting my drive.
I love you Daddy. There is so much more I want to tell you about, but I think I have to save it for another day. It will be pages and pages if I were to write it all now, and I don't want to cry anymore.
I love you all the way to Fisherville (no matter where I am in the world),
Alexa
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