March 17th

Dear Mom,

I made reservations to check out Fallingwater several weeks ago, and I finally made it. My ankle was even feeling good enough to stand the walk around the extensive grounds.

I can't pretend to have any knowledge of architecture, but Frank Lloyd Wright was a genius to create a house like that, on a foundation like that. The water running under it made me wish for a home poised over a stream.

That's not something I remember wishing for before.

It's not a surprise that it should be the water that has the strongest inspiration on me instead of the house and all the genius that it proves.

At this point I've come to the conclusion that as much as I love learning things and knowing things, there are too many things in the world for me to know about them all. I suppose architecture goes into that slot.

I loved the house though. The tour guide was knowledgeable, and...now I sound like I'm leaving a four star review.

Moving on...

I did drive through Punxsutawney yesterday, and I'm just impressed with myself for being able to pronounce it. I didn't stick around.

Falling Water was day before yesterday, and today was Philadelphia. The City of Brotherly Love.

Actually, most of Philly will be tomorrow. I plan on checking out all the Revolutionary War spots, including where the Declaration of Independence was signed as well as the Liberty Bell, and, you know, all the cool history places in Philly.

Today was really all about the King of Prussia Mall.

You know I'm not much of a shopper, but wandering the mall gave me the opportunity to exercise my ankle on flat terrain.

Let me tell you, I was not prepared for the size of this mall.

Of course I wasn't. The biggest mall I've ever been in was in Denver. That's nothing compared to this place.

It's the third largest mall in America. I'm scared to even think about trying to traverse anything bigger.

It is the largest retail space in the US, so I suppose the others maybe aren't bigger square foot wise?

It's enormous, and fascinating, and has a lot of options.

I did find a cute pair of shoes and a pair of pants to replace the pair I ripped falling down the trail two weeks ago.

There are several things I absolutely will not miss about being on the road all the time, but one of the big ones is the amount of space I have for clothes. I never had to ration my clothing before, it's one of the hardest things I've gotten used to.

I probably won't know what to do with space when I have it again.

Dad called me yesterday, and we talked about what we're going to do when I go home. I think his main reason for calling was to gauge if I'm ready to say goodbye to you. I'm not. I can't imagine being ready, but the truth is when this trip is over my life is going to need to move forward. Not away from you, but without you by my side.

These letters have given me the chance to say goodbye that I desperately needed, and I'm grateful he's been patient with me.

Not that he's pushing me to figure out where to place your ashes, but I think he's ready to say goodbye, and also ready to not be worrying about me every day.

This trip was truly selfish, but I don't have it in me to regret it at this moment.

For one thing, Dad mentioned Deanna very vaguely today. Something about her planning a trip through Colorado and she might stop by.

Dad and Deanna would be good together. Good in a way the two of you hadn't been in a really long time. Maybe even good in a way you two couldn't have been. It's hard to believe that less than a year ago I still had some weird idea that you and Dad would make up and I'd have my family back whole.

It was the thought of someone very young, I suppose. Someone who hadn't seen much of the world or humankind.

I sometimes wonder, if you were still alive and I'd finished out my exams and gotten my degree, if you and I had gone on this trip, and Dad didn't have to worry about his wayward daughter out here on her own, would Dad have come and spent time with us in New Orleans? Would him and Deanna have struck up a friendship?

I'd like to think it's more, but I can't really guarantee anything yet.

He likes her though. I could tell in the soft hesitation in his voice. He wasn't just worried about my reaction to him replacing the spot I'd reserved for you in his life. He wants me to be okay with him moving on.

I'm glad for him, that's he's found this relationship he probably wouldn't have otherwise. It's a hard thing to say, but if anything good has come out of the horrible tragedy of your death, it's this.

I am grateful that he chose to stick with us even though you weren't together. That he made sure I had a dad growing up, even if he didn't really know how to connect with me.

Now he gets to be happy, or at least it kind of looks like it's heading that way, and I can begrudge him that happiness, especially when I think of Jasper and get butterflies.

I know he is going to want to get some closure on all of this soon though, and I don't blame him at all.

So we're planning a grand goodbye trip for you.

My lightbulb just died and I'm using my phone flashlight to finish this letter, so I'll finish it here.

I love you so much, and I think you'd be happy with where our lives are now. I think you'd hug me and tell me it's time to find the next thing in my life, even if it's not quite what I thought it would look like.

I know you love me back.

Bo.