crowded places.
Airports were especially difficult.
He’d never enjoyed flying. During our childhood, he insisted on driving fourteen hours to visit our grandmother rather than purchasing plane tickets.
Mom always joked that he’d drive to the moon if somebody built a highway.
I’d assumed it was because Dad loved being in control.
After all, he’d taught high school physics for thirty-four years. He liked predictable things, carefully calculated distances, and rules that made sense.
Beth offered to let him stay another week, but he refused with a smile.
“Ten days
