...probably a few chapters in from my NaNoWriMo in November...
This is where I could go into an exposition of the details of the travel plans, but I am not that guy. If I were the type of guy to keep both eyes open for the inevitability of a quirky event, I would at least touch on one of those to move the story along, meanwhile letting you know that we simply didn't launch forward on a tugboat from sunny San Pedro.
My father said his peace: 'I'll make it so you wouldn't want for anything'.
"Fine. How should we pack for clothes?"
"You'll not want for anything."
"A map? My pills? A burner phone from CVS with international SIM card capability?" Justin, the second youngest was a card. He was incisive and abrasive, we got on best. At one point he threatened to have an Excel grid with 100 items that anyone would need to take on a voyage around the world. I never saw it, and didn't need to. I'm sure he had it all in that fat head of his. My brothers were as equally difficult.
There I go, making it quirky with a silly little aside. It was all too true. And, with two months to go, I sat with my father for lunch at Newport, restaurant name withheld, but one of many that offer pull up yacht parking. I was asked to wrap sanity around the arrangements once and for all.
My father chewed through his Firepot Swordfish with amazing ease. I gave him credit for eating something so spicy.
"Well, I'll pay for it later." The couple next to us sat upright, visible through my periphery. Aghast! I can't say I liked the place for the clientele. We didn't grow up where we could park our yacht on the landing dock outside and show up for lunch in a breezy Louis Vitton windbreaker. This was the only place I could get my father to meet me now. He was agreeable because he knew how much I loathed it.
"Your boys are no longer agreeable if they can at least bring something for the trip..." I paused because it sounded funny on the verge of my lips, "...around the world." I explained the need for outside contact, the concerns of disengagement from the world, aid kits, satellite phone, special clothing and the whole boring lot.
My father, fully reticent, looked through the dark paneling and at the bright light upon the harbor. It reflected twice in his glasses. He quietly, but not slowly, ate his food and drank his IPA. He was enjoying it. He found comfort in his age, where he stopped caring what others thought. I was still marred by it, even in mid-age.
"So, perhaps I should impart upon all of you that this trip, and my impending death..." More stiff backs around us and a slightly dropped salad fork off in the distance, "...that I want to assure you all that I have you taken care of. There may have been thoughts in the past that I have been distant, aloof, uncaring...this trip is a way for me to make it up to all of you. Be it known that I watched you, bathed you, read you stories before bed, changed diapers, fed you and the like. That wicked woman that said otherwise has been nothing but misguided and unfair.
"Son, for you, I have packed a small carry-on for our first journey, as we head to the Galapagos then to Tahiti. It has a toiletry package right from the Macy's counter, all from Harry's and better than anything you deem usable today. You'll have a tweed travel suit, slacks, socks - all are designed for outdoor and turned inside out for dining in the evening. Orvis shoes. You'll each have a smart watch to track our journey, an appropriately appointed all-purpose DSLR, a Moleskine, swimsuit, pajamas, socks, underwear. A book. 'Final Fridays' by John Barth.
"At various stops along the way you'll gain access to clothes for that trip. If we have three nights in Udaipur, then there will be an adequately appropriated wardrobe and other items. If we are snorkeling in the Maldives, then expect some fins and a snorkel. I have been planning this trip for the better part of a year, and I am no stranger to travel, or to you."
I felt horrendous. The combination of Dad's thoroughness and my lack of comfort in this restaurant and I didn't touch it. I had them box it and gave it to my dad for dinner. We said little after that as I drove him home.
Latter on Skype. "Well?"
"He's got us covered, fellas. Just show up."
And we did. I may not have all the quirky details, but Dad sure did.
...
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