"I told you when we started with Gerson Therapy, you don't have to be here."
"I know, Dad. But I wanted to be sure Mom would be ok, and you could handle it."
"I told you we could. I told you you could go at anytime. Never with my blessing. But you're free to go."
"Mom is doing much better than I thought and she has you and Hannah and Gideon as a support network. Working fifty hours a week I haven't been much help anyway. I would never have your blessing for this Walkabout, would I?"
"Your generation is one step away from Sodom and Gomorrah. I watched a four year old yesterday tell his Momma what he wanted and why and she bought it for him...This generation is missing its potential. You're worse than the hippies."
How can I explain to him that this is why I'm going, because not going on this walkabout is to miss my calling, my Personal Legend. I cry a little and say I wish he could understand. His hazel eyes flare up like they do when a storm is brewing under those big eyebrows - his soul seems to be ready to shoot out. He tells me that no, he will never understand.
"Dad, traveling is not new. It's what our ancestors did as a way of life."
"The Israelites went in groups and followed their leader. This queer yesterday..."
So I don't have my Dad's blessing. But walking across America does not make me of "this generation" or "queer" or "missing my potential." Though I may be all of those things in one way or another.
All I know is, Momma is gonna be ok and I've put in my 2 week notice, and I'm at last going to walk this country fo' I die!