Isn't he adorable???

It has become somewhat of a routine this little dance we do, to and from the airport.  It is our special time.  This is how the story goes.......

I get off the airplane, grab my bags and call Dad.  He tells me "I'll be there in five minutes" and I wait.  I try and stay away from the traffic cop we have named "the traffic nazi" because she will not allow anyone to linger more than 60 seconds while waiting for there loved one.  He pulls up in his white pick-up truck and I throw my suitcase in the back and jump into the front seat grabbing a quick hug and kiss.  His truck smells of wood chips and life savers.  He is always dressed in his Levi's, boots and white t-shirt.  We talk about life and the weather as he maneuvers through LA traffic.  Then, the radio gets turned on and 50's music fills the air as he says "remember this one"?  "Of course I do".  Thinking to myself, you have been playing 50's music for as long as I can remember.  He seems surprised as he turns up an old favorite and I belt out the lyrics right along with him. 

I can remember, when I was a little girl, sitting next to him as close as possible.  ( He seemed so big to me).  We would sit right next to the stereo and I would hand him his "eight tracks" and he would listen to his music.    He was lost in another world, another time, another era.  He  has the best voice and would belt out the lyrics to his favorite songs.  Some songs were upbeat and he would say "remember this one"?  Others brought tears to his eyes.  I watched this love affair with music feeling honored to be a part of such emotion.

Dad, thanks for taking the time to "dance with me".  It's the little things in life that matter and all of the little things my Dad has done  for me over the years could fill the Grand Canyon.