Years ago I took a bus from Lawrence to Wichita. I can't remember now the reason for the trip or why driving was not an option, it's all lost to a dozen years of other facts and figures, but the fact remains that I took this trip. After the "should have been a three hours trip" turned into five and then seven it was overwhelming to finally arrive. I remember that Dad picked me up from the bus station and I was so glad to see him, just standing there like scene from a movie, wearing those jeans with the perpetually ripped belt loop and a blue (always blue) shirt. His Santa white hair was flying about in the wind and he had a jacket tucked neatly under his arm. Dad's clean figure contrasted with all the grime and dirt from the station and made me glad to be home despite the long drive.
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