June Seventeenth

As many good adventures tend to go, this one starts off in a different direction. It was a Sunday night and, since we still haven’t recovered from the high school habit of seeing each other every day, Alyssa and I were on Skype. Even just a mere 15 miles apart, we set aside the evening for our chat to conspire our own trip to the Windy City for the Fourth of July. The past three summers had offered similar promise of road-tripping together. The summer of 2011 was the summer of musical exploration, complete with traipses to catch the Backstreet Boys and Fleet Foxes (on separate occasions, mind you). But aside from two hour car rides, we were ready to take on another summer, another city, another adventure. It was during this conversation (which, as per usual, sounded much more like a reunion of longtime best friends after years of separation) that another journey presented itself.

A popup message sounded.
“How are things going?”
It was my father. He was messaging me during his lunch break in Taiwan, where he teaches as a professor.

“Good. Keeping busy with work and things but enjoying a break from school,” I typed.

“I would really like for you and Ben to come visit sometime soon.”

This type of request wasn’t anything new. What changed between the past and now was my welcoming of new opportunities.

36 days later and I’m on a plane en route to another adventure. And this is just the beginning.

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