I was in the passenger seat.

Different car, different destination, different time, but other than that....

Or maybe you were riding shotgun the time I drove alone from Chiago to Denver. (Got as far as Des Moines before relizing that the radio had been off for 300 miles.)

Isn't it weird...how we think that getting away is actually getting away? Do we ever, really?

Sorry to read about your mom of course, but it was an amazing read.

Thank you.