March 24th

Dear Mom,

I've been talking to Dad almost every other day for a week, figuring out the details.

The bad news is I might not have enough time to really experience the east coast like I want to.

The good news is we have plane tickets set for the end of April.

We're going to be in Hawaii on the one year anniversary of your death, and it seems ultimately fitting that the grand finale of our fabled road trip will be your final resting place.

It's been raining a lot, which I suppose is normal for the spring up here, and snow has been a regular visitor as well.

New York has so much more than just the city. I spent some time on the Pennsylvania/New York border, and it's one of the poorest places I've been. I guess it used to be mostly supported by the oil fields, and since they shut down the people there have really struggled.

Once I reached rural New York though, it was like the sky opened up.

I forgot to write in my last letter about Scranton! I suppose people only know about Scranton because of The Office, and so maybe no one really knows about it, but I did drive through it.

Apparently it used to be a coal town, so when the coal industry died in Pennsylvania they diversified and fought through it.

One of the things they're famous for is Nottingham Lace. The Scranton Lace Factory closed down in 2002 and since then they've destroyed most of the buildings to bring in apartments and town homes.

I suppose that's progress for you.

I find that part of the country ultimately depressing, and didn't stick around longer than I had to. Every time I go through a town and see remnants of prosperous days in the drab present it makes me sad.

I want to hope for better times for these people and places.

Today I spent some time in Long Island. Driving around and trying not to appear too nosy.

Honestly, after driving around all day I have Sabrina playing on my phone while I'm writing this because fiction helps me to appreciate the real world, and what better fiction than a romantic comedy starring Julia Ormond?

Other than a romantic comedy starring Audrey Hepburn, of course.

If I could have Audrey Hepburn and Harrison Ford star together it would be perfect. Nothing against Julia Ormond, it's just that Audrey is an icon.

That movie always inspires me. It took her a little bit, but she learned to lean into life, to grab it with both hands and even with her dreamy personality she still experienced so much of what life should be.

Sometimes I forget that I've done the same. Sometimes it seems like I will never be the brave girl who is willing to admit to herself how ridiculous her dreams are, and strive for them anyway.

I went to Sunken Meadow State Park today and sat in the sand and watched the people around me.

Of course, the North Shore is known for the extreme wealth of the inhabitants, and I was not disappointed. Families walked along the beach, or sat under umbrellas enjoying picnics. Nannies kept a sharp eye on the children so their parents didn't have to, and I found myself enthralled by the dynamics of a society of people who are willing to leave their young to other people.

I think there's a bird somewhere that does that, leaving their eggs in the nests of other birds. Maybe cowbirds?

I suppose it's different if you can give the nanny a background check.

I ended the evening in a small town in rural New York. They were having some sort of festival, and the mayor gave a speech.

I don't know what his real name is, but everyone just called him Mr. G. I caught glimpses of him circulating through the crowd, and I'm not sure I've ever seen a political figure so loved by his constituents.

Of course, it was one evening, and maybe it's not always like that.

But it was a good way to end the evening with a street fair and happy people milling around. It felt like the kind of place I could settle down in.

It probably didn't hurt to see the mayors wife, (I only knew she was his wife because I heard some people talking), having a wonderful time with him.

She seemed much quieter than him, but she somehow ended up at my table and we sat and talked for almost an hour while we watched him work his happy magic on the people.

The honest truth is, that I sat there, talking to a perfect stranger, and it seemed like I knew her from somewhere. It kind of felt like you'd come back to sit with me for an hour in a different form, so I wouldn't feel so alone.

Like you were tired of leaving me in this nest with people who aren't my people, so you stopped in for a visit.

I doubt this woman will ever know how much her kindness and her husband's friendliness meant to me, and that's okay.

I'm treasuring it up in my heart, and the wrist band I had to have in order to have a beer is going in the shoebox with your letters.

Someday I hope this kindness I'm treasuring up will be able to come back out of me and touch another life of another person who is struggling to make it through the day.

I hope I can touch a life like they touched mine.

I am tired and I can still hear the voices floating down the street from the cordoned off area, but I feel more peaceful than I have in a while.

I still miss you more than I would have imagined.

I love you.

Bo.