Personal Essay
What I Learned While Chasing One Last Rocket Launch with My Dad
Just keep going
As I slowed to a walk, I was a bit more out of breath than I might’ve expected after a very short jog. There was no two ways about it, I needed to get in better shape if I was going to be able to keep up with my dad and his walker. Of course, this little jog was a bit unexpected so maybe my sudden fatigue was a result of my body not receiving adequate notice that its services were needed. And it was late afternoon in late July in central Florida, so the sun was hot and it felt like I was sucking in warm soup with each breath rather than air.
My dad was on the move again. There was a rocket launch scheduled for 6:24, so he slipped out of his bedroom, out the front door, down the driveway, and around the corner before anyone noticed. When I located him after a few minutes of frantic searching, he was halfway down the next street over. Pushing his gray, four-wheeled walker. Moving quickly, if erratically, at a stumbling and lurching jog.
I chased him down. Stopped a few paces to his right toward the middle of the vacant street, took a few deep breaths, and gave a little wave in his direction.
“Hey there,” I said.
