We began our last day...

...in L. A. at Fat Sal's Deli in Westwood, where the sign practically screams out, WE'RE MAKIN' SANDWICHES OVER HERE. (Except I couldn't help thinking that the last two words should be pronounced "ova hee-yuh.")

Although we got a late start, we packed a lot in last Wednesday. Joe had a job interview (already!) on Hollywood Boulevard at three o'clock and I walked around the neighborhood until he was finished. (I called my wife and said, "Hey, guess where I'm calling you from? Hollywood Boulevard!") We then went back to his room where he changed (and hung up his suit) before we drove down Ocean Avenue to Marina del Rey. (Is there anything in L. A. that doesn't sound cool?) We found a great little Mexican restaurant in town and parked the car illegally (it wouldn't be a Tracy vacation without at least one parking ticket, now would it?) before taking one long last walk along the beach, below. (And the weather, like the rest of the week, was gorgeous.) 

Joe then drove me to the airport so I could catch the 10:30 red-eye to Chicago. (I figured I'd be the only jamoke on the plane -- boy, was I wrong! The place was hoppin'. It seemed like everybody and his mama needed to get to Chicago right away. And it was the kind of crowd that made you half-expect to see someone trying to bring a chicken on board.)

But it was at the curb, where Joe dropped me off, that things got a little poignant. Remember how I said at the beginning of this series that the trip was bittersweet? Well, it was.

When I got my bag out of the trunk and handed over the keys to my son, I knew it was my opportunity to say one last wise or insightful thing to him. (This is the kid, after all, that I taught how to ride a two-wheeler!) But as we looked at each other, all I could say was, "I ... uh ... uh," before we hugged for what seemed like a long time. It was my big chance to say something that he could tell his grandchildren some day and I ... choked.

I felt bad about it afterward and texted him from the gate, "I feel like i should have said more when we parted, but i also feel like we've said everything already."

But Joe, ever the adult in the relationship, responded, "don't worry about it dad, i totally agree. we basically started saying goodbye to each other when we left glenview."

And, as usual, he was right.