Denver

Dear Chewey,

My latest sojourn has taken me to my hometown of Portland, Oregon, where the rain flows in biblical proportions. I’ll update you on my stay here (I’m staying with your favorite grandmother), but I wanted to write to you about my train trip from New York to Denver and my stay in Colorado, which lasted a little longer than I had originally anticipated because I caught a cold and decided to forgo my train trip from Denver to Portland, opting instead to fly.

The last time I was on a train was the stretch between Chicago and Denver, yet another overnight ride. As I mentioned in my last letter, I have probably been as much, if not more, grateful for my interactions with the people I have crossed paths with as I am for the beauty of the different parts of the country I’ve been in. This trip proved no exception to that observation.

I had dinner with Janeth (not a typo) and Don, a couple in their 60s who were returning home to Denver after a journey to Washington, D.C. We shared a number of stories with one another, ranging from politics to employment, all of which I’ve since forgotten—because the most important story they shared was about their son, who tragically died in a plane crash twenty years ago.

I was honored that they felt comfortable sharing this tragedy with me and heartbroken when Janeth cried while discussing it. It brought to mind the Lord of the Rings: The Two Towers quote: “No parent should have to bury their child.” It also reminded me of my own daughter, who had to endure this same pain when she buried my grandson in February 2019. There truly are no words of comfort for an anguished parent as they recall the color of their son’s eyes or the pressure of a hug they will never receive again. And so, I try only to listen and take their lead—whether they want to talk and remember, or cry and change the subject.

I arrived in Denver on the morning of February 18. This phase of my journey was not for sightseeing; it was for rest and recovery. I have no pictures or specific stories to tell, only general feelings of love and gratitude to share.

As you know, in January, both Lynne and Jake moved to northern Colorado. They were the ones who allowed me to stay with them during my much-needed recuperation.

Spending time with any of my kids is an elixir to my often anxiety-ridden soul, and this time with Jake was no different. He’s such a thoughtful young man and a deep thinker (which, I suppose, like me, can be to his detriment at times). He’s old-school—he’d rather talk on the phone than send a text—and when we’re together, he often dives into some really excellent topics. I frequently walk away from our discussions with a smile he’s brought to my face, and I love him deeply.

The other feeling of gratitude I have is for my ex-wife, Lynne. You’ve met Lynne a couple of times, Chewey. I think you enjoyed meeting her, and I know she enjoyed meeting you.

Lynne, like both Jake and Avery, has a heart of gold. Despite our incredibly difficult divorce almost eight years ago, she has found it in her heart to forgive me and accept me as a dear friend. She makes me laugh and is an amazing mother to our children.

And so, that’s more or less my trip to Colorado—relax, recover, riant.

I’ll share some pictures of my time in Portland and update you on how things are going here when I can.

I love you, buddy.
Dad