Heaven Near Hanna
The greatest casualty of my divorce some fifteen years ago is the time I wouldn't get to spend with my son and daughter. Now they're adults, a metamorphosis that happened somewhere along the way to my mid-life, and having thus arrived, those years missed taunt the days we have left to pack them up with places, experiences and memories. That's not to say we didn't make much of the State mandated Wednesday night and every other weekend, but I'm convinced that any Utah Divorce Court judge has no goddamn idea what it means to be legally reduced to a quarter-time parent. Say what you want about being there, but to date and through no fault of my own, I've been robbed of a little over six thousand bedtime stories. Times two. And while that's not the purest impetus for our adventures, it has something to do with finding the time to be together, outside, on the water, in a kayak, up the mountain, behind the wheel, on the trail. For the last weekend of July,