Traveling with Dad always brings surprises. At 3 a.m., the motel room suddenly lights up like high noon. I shoot up, bleary-eyed, and there he is—wide awake, smiling, and asking, “Oh, are you up?” as if we’ve both just had a full night’s rest. I mumble something about it still being the middle of the night, but by 4 a.m., he’s at it again—lamps blazing, ready to start the day. It’s equal parts exhausting and endearing. You’ve got to laugh, because sometimes that’s the only way to stay awake and sane.
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