As I complete this book, it’s five years after the trip.

I’ve been thinking about the accomplished author’s warning that no one really loves a story without someone to root for.

So much has changed since that trip.

COVID-19.

That changed us forever.

Then there’s the political insanity like the storming of the Capital in Washington that I still can’t wrap my head around. It was such a sad, embarrassing day.

The country’s climate is blowing up with record heat, fires and flooding.

And we’re shooting each other across the country on a daily basis.

So based on that, I guess I’m thinking we should be rooting for all of us, right?

But there have been amazing moments since the trip too.

My entire family traveled to England and we met Dave Blow – the English version.

A drunken decision one night about a decade ago saw him friend request all the Dave Blows on Facebook.

Several, including me, responded.

After digitally pen-palling for years, I pitched my family a visit to his home near Bath. Amazingly, and only after a fair amount of coaxing on my part and them deep-diving him online, did we decide to try it.

What played out as a result of that decision was pure Dave Blow magic.

My daughters played music in his hometown pub. We swapped stories, marveled at each-others accents and did several toasts. I learned we are very similar – right down to our mutual love of the TV show “Gold Rush.”

Bizarre, right?

It was really the last pre-COVID hurrah and is so ingrained in my memory. And in fall 2022, he came to America with his wife, Julie. We ate well, drank well and saw some amazing fall foliage. We also shot guns, something that was on his wish list along with eating sausage gravy and biscuits. We’ve gone from novelty friends to good friends and he said he loved that he basically got to be plopped into my American friend group to see what that looks like.

Sarah graduated, we had that amazing trip to the Bahamas that included an equally amazing TikTok of us trying to bust open a coconut, and she accepted a job with Tata Harper skincare while we were there.

She and her boyfriend Ben have since moved to Brooklyn to work for a larger skincare company called Drunk Elephant. I’m insanely proud of her and she seems so happy with both her career and personal life with Ben.

And in the summer of 2022, my oldest little girl got married – in my yard – to a man from Spain she fell in love with while teaching there. My home was transformed into a wedding venue, with two tents, a bar and shuffleboard court dance floor (shuffleboard court came with the house).

I got to finally meet Miguel Gonzalez days before the wedding, but then got to know him really well as he stayed with us for a month.

We also traveled to Spain to meet his parents, and recently went there again, and for over a year now I’ve been “learning” Spanish daily on Duolingo to hopefully someday be able to communicate better with them.

Santa Fe probably won’t happen for us again, traded in for visits to Spain. But I can handle that.

Kirsti also just came out with her first full-length EP called Loose Ends, recorded in Mallorca Spain by a producer for Argentina (you should have a listen!).

I think it’s her best work to date. So polished and professional with such meaningful, clever lyrics. She’s also getting more and more gigs in Spain and said she’s really starting to feel like a part of the community there. She’s also teaching English to local kids on the side.

But back to rooting for characters.

With the trouble in the world these days, I guess it’s logical to root for us all. Root for a better climate, more civil politics, for and end to the Ukraine-Russia war, for COVID to never be an issue again, and for health and happiness for all.

But I think this is a great place in this book to again plead with you to root for me.

My oldest daughter, the one who I could spend 22 days in a car with, the one who looks like me, likes the same music as me and acts a bit like me too, is living what seems like a light-year away in Spain.

And it’s hard.

I go for 10 or 11 months without seeing her and then she’s in her old attic bedroom for a month or more, like old times. I go see her play gigs locally and savor every song.

We watch the Red Sox on TV. Sometimes we have mini beach vacations as a family, or go to a Sox game. It’s back to total immersion.

Then.

She’s gone.

Like a Band-Aid being ripped off my hairy arm.

And then the separation becomes the norm.

And I don’t like that.

And I think about the future and her having children. I want to be a good grandfather. I love little kids. Hell, I AM a little kid. Ask my friends and students.

I worry that the miles in between will prevent that, but I’ll try hard to not let that happen.

And I worry for his folks too. If Kirsti and Miguel someday decide to give America a try as a home.

Then his parents lose.

But I also want you root for Kirsti. For her happiness. When you get right down to it, as a dad, that’s really all we should want. Right?

I feel blessed to have had this crazy 22-day trip with her. Not many dads share that experience. I will forever cherish the miles, the photos and videos, the down time watching TV on the bed together, the laughs, the drinks – the bond.

I’ll forever cherish the bond.