I took these photos during a flight from Santa Fe, New Mexico, to Denver, Colorado. The pilot said we’d experience a few bumps while traveling over the Rocky Mountains. “We’re going to have a near-death experience every five minutes” would have been more accurate. What a jerk. Continue reading
During a recent trip home to the United States, I flew to Santa Fe, New Mexico, to visit my uncle Jim.
Jim and I became close after my father — his youngest brother — died when I was in fourth grade. Something about his presence helped fill the gap that Dad’s absence left. We’d horseplay in my front yard, and Jim, built like a defense lineman, would sling me to the ground using techniques he learned during tai chi classes.
I hadn’t seen him since 2008, a couple of years before I moved to Beijing. The first few times I came home to Kentucky for my annual leave, we talked on the phone but I didn’t visit. I felt guilty, and so this year I decided to go West. Continue reading