10 days post-japan with you. I'm changed forever, feels like a quantum shift inside me. I can't pinpoint why, it's weird. My DNA has been modified. There have been smaller adjustments through these 20 years - baby in the Bumbo, walking to your firends house alone, soccer tryouts, world of tanks, fortnite, your friend group, drivers license, univeristy, working, saving. But this feels different.

My worry as a parent up to this point in your life has been "if I died tomorrow, have I given you the skills to live a life at least as good as mine?" After this trip I know the answer.

It's been 10 days since we got back and I haven't stopped thinking about our time together; I want to go back again right now. I can't put my finger on exaclty why. I think it's rooted in a feeling of pride and satisfaction on who you are and the trajectory you're on. We travelled with ease. You were open to whatever direction the day took. Shrine. Bakery. Iced coffee. Subway. 22,000 steps. Carrying the backpack. Getting us water. Sweating. Shopping.

My favorite couple hours was probably near the Tokyo Tower when we stumbled on the Reiyukai Shakaden Temple, which we had noticed on our walk from the train station to Tokyo Tower. There was no one there except a security guard. We wandered around, tired from the heat already. The architecture was amazing. Quiet. We tried to find the upper levels but the doors were closed or locked. And then we sat for a bit, taking a rest and figuring out what we would do next. 20 minutes or so. You mentioned you liked the building and we chatted. I want to go back there right now with you.

I didn't know you were interested in buildings and architecture. I wnated to be an architect when I was in high school, I took drafting for a couple years and loved it. When I go to museums I'm usually there to see the building more than the art.

I didn't know how much you liked shopping. You said you wanted to come back just to shop. You could identify quality and unique items. We also hit the junk stores too, both fun. You were always thinking about what to get for your friends and family. Thoughtful.

I feel sad knowing I can't relive the trip again. Snippets of the trip will sit right behind my eyes and on the tip of my brain for a very long time.

Subconsciously I was studying you. Like when we bought the Narita Express tickets in Shinagawa back to the airport and we couldn't figure out why we couldn't get through the gates. You figured it out first. Stayed calm while I was crashing out. You got us to the airport.

You never complain. I have told my friends this about you since you were small. I think it's one of your most beautiful traits. Just like me. Just like your grandpa. I fake complain sometimes for humour or to make a point about something, but I don't generally compain when things go bad. My dad never did either. I see the same in you. When your wild boar steak at the Gora Brewery wasn't great, but you knew it was kind of expensive, you didn't say anything. Same when we had the wagyu in Kyoto for lunch. Keep that with you - keep your complaints inside. Don't let people hear you bitch. If you need to vent do it with a close ally only.

I know now you'll be a lifelong traveller. We tried to open those doors for you guys. Mexico. Europe. Banf Springs. Disney. Cruise. Travel is why you work hard. Why you take risks. It doesn't have to be elaborate or expensive. You went to Kelowna for a week. Amazing. Adventure. Unknown. Excitement. Relaxation. We tried all the food we could in Japan. Most of it fantastic. Some of it outstanding.

For the next 4 years I'll be waiting to this with Avery. It's like a final exam for Parenting 101 class. It's like taking the bread out of the oven. You can't tell everything by the crust, but you know you didn't burn it. Now I know what to expect, hopefully I can walk the tightrope of enjoying the time with her in the moment, knowing the effect it will likely have on me after our return home.