“Storyteller”

I am a storyteller with a bachelor’s degree in my favorite subject, history. Since childhood, listening to stories like any other kid has been my cherished memory. A road trip with my mom, dad, and younger siblings remains my favorite. Planned in a few hours, my dad chose to leave our worries behind and spend two wonderful days in the mountains. He later extended our adventure to another breathtaking destination. To clarify, he took his extended family for the same vacation to a grander hotel the next chance he got. 
Those 3 nights with my parents and little brother and sister were the most precious moments of my life. I often talk about that trip with my girls. The spontaneity and openness of that trip never leave me. I remember our devoted driver navigating eight hours to a beautiful resort just in time for my mom to break her fast. I spent the early morning sitting on the balcony and then watching the the very loud river bounce off the big rocks. Delicious food, scenic roads, apple orchards by the roadside, and the sound of the river are all my precious memories. This trip was also when my dad decided to teach me the valuable lesson in confidence. So, while my parents waited in the car, watching me intently as I walked up to the reception enquiring for interconnected rooms (yes, I am that old; there were no smartphones or apps to make the bookings). I use that trick my girls now to place orders at coffee shops.
That trip holds so many wonderful memories. It had everything, adventure, loving moments, family fun; when we washed our clothes every night in the hotel bathroom because we packed for only 2 days and not a week. Or the red color snow boots my little brother refused to return after they were rented from a local vendor to play in the snow (yeah, it was quite normal back then. I didn’t grow up with multiple pairs of shoes for rain, snow, and every day. We had one pair worn by the oldest and passed down to the youngest and then finally donated to a person in need). The funniest part is that my brother has no memory of those boots. He also never wore them again after playing in the snow that day. They were finally donated to a person in need.
Every road trip with Dad was not just about listening to music or eating good food; but listening to the stories my dad lovingly narrated to us. He was a storyteller with a highly sharp memory. He was my everything, my love, my friend, my guide. 
Sitting here so far from where I grew up, where I first experienced the feeling of home, I hope I am able to give that to my girls. I can see him in my girls somewhere in there, letting me know he never left. 

Today I read another book

Thinking of the one we discussed 

As we walked the roads

Conversing with ease 

Listening 

And 

Understanding

Words I had not yet explored. 

---

Today, I sang a song,

Remembering the song you sang 

Every time Ma got upset

Watching you 

Making her smile 

Standing by her side

Waiting for the smile to 

Turn into a song.

---

Today, I told my girls a story

Missing your voice

Knowing they will never listen to your words

But

Believing you came back to me

Like you always joked

Next lifetime, 

You be the mom 

And I will be your daughter.