As a kid, my dad used to take me to work with him in the summers. He didn’t have a normal, office job. My dad worked for an insurance company, and he traveled all over the state inspecting the buildings his company insured, making sure they were all up to ‘code.’ In my eyes, it was one of the coolest jobs a dad could have because it seemed like he was pretty much his own boss.
I looked forward to the trips we took every year. We would leave early in the morning, make 10-15 stops throughout the day (one of which would always be for a hamburger at lunch), and we would always stay in a hotel afterward, capping off the day with a swim in the pool, seeing a movie or going to a park to wind down the evening. They were some of the best summer memories.
Over the years, my dad spent as much time on the road as a semi-truck driver, maybe more, and I’m grateful I got to spend at least a few of those millions of miles with him. My dad taught me to love the long drives and the roads that take us places. He taught me patience and simplicity, some of life’s greatest lessons.
There’s beauty in the irony of this hot summer day, now fully grown. I am sitting in my own office, watching the traffic go by on the road he used to take to work every Monday morning, imagining myself sitting right next to him again, listening to the radio, watching the cars go by and casually listening to the stories he had to tell.
-Cliff
Cliff’s Note: Don’t write-off road trips; they’re often full of more memories than miles.