The home I was raised and born in faced East with a large backyard facing West. It was located in the Millard neighborhood off of 144th and Giles street in Omaha. Vivid memories flood back to me; watching the sunset with my father, eating newly ripened raspberries, cautious of the bush’s thorns. My dad loved the sun, but warned not to look directly at it. Sensitive eyes yet developing. He soaked it up, the sun rising and setting– a therapeutic meditation of gratitude. As Julius and I glide on the Amtrak, New York City bound along the Hudson river, I cannot help but reflect on those simpler times with my dad. The view before us, I can assure you, he would have enjoyed.

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