The Greatest Journey of All

Daddy's "engineer" cap, journal and photograph.  The photograph was taken on a train, naturally!

Eight years ago today, my father took his greatest journey.

Daddy developed a love for trains in the early 1960's, and it grew only larger and deeper over the next 40 years. 

Daddy not only rode trains, he listened to trains!

You might pass our typical 3 bedroom brick house, located in your average middle class neighborhood, and double check to make sure you were not standing on the platform of a depot somewhere.

Recordings of actual trains were known to thunder past the front door or through the windows every now and then.  More than likely, my sister and I were barricaded in our bedrooms attempting to drown out his "music" with our radios blasting the top tunes of the day.  Mother, as mothers do, learned to tune us all out.

Our family vacations were always by train -- even if the itinerary first demanded that we fly or drive to board a train to our final destination.

Yes, Daddy loved his trains!

This is his handwritten log of his railroad travels, beginning in November 1964.

Daddy was an accountant.  Columns, ledgers, numbers and keeping records were his idea of fun.

The Number of Family column was almost always filled with the number 4.

 That would later change to 2, as my sister and I left for colleges, careers and marriages.
The destinations also began to extend overseas.

Following Mother's death in 1994, the number changed to 1, or more often "H" for Harley.

Daddy was on an excursion to Canada and Alaska when our country was attacked on 9-11.

The trip was cut short and the tour group remained in Denali Park, Alaska for a few days. 

On September 13, when commercial flights were again in the skies, Daddy flew home.  It was his last trip -- train or otherwise.

Over the course of years, in the United States and abroad, Daddy rode 463 trains, covering 120, 647 miles.

On that day eight years ago, I knew he was preparing for another journey.  I heard a train whistle outside his hospice window.  He climbed aboard for the greatest journey ever.  One that reunited him with my mother and sister.  Destination Heaven.

I thought I missed you then, I never knew how much I would miss you now.

Life is like a journey taken on a train, with a pair of travelers at each window pane.
I may sit beside you all the journey through, or I may sit elsewhere never knowing you.
But if Fate should mark me to sit at your side, let's be pleasant travelers --
it's so short a ride.
A writing found in my father's desk.  Author unknown.