Dear Mom,

Dad flew in yesterday. He set up for his friends from college to show us around New Orleans, and let me tell you, it was a trip.

I hardly remember meeting Gary when I was little, but it only took two minutes before I felt completely comfortable with him. He has such a huge personality, it wasn't a surprise we fell right into friendship. Him and his sister Deanna took us all over New Orleans, including the Cafe Du Monde and National Historical Park dedicated to Jean Lafitte. I looked up the pronunciation of his name, and everything said it was pronounced Jean Lafitte, but it doesn't work in my head, so I'm just calling him Jean Lafitte.

Deanna is really cool. I’ve never met her before of course, but I guess she used to hang out with you and Dad years ago too. She scolded Gary for blowing powdered sugar all over me from his beignet. Apparently Dad was expecting it and stepped to the side just in time, but I got a face and front full of the stuff.

It was fun and freeing to be around Dad, laughing with his friends, seeing him without the heaviness of losing you so apparent on his face.

Did you know Emeril has a restaurant in New Orleans? It's in the French Quarter, and it's called NOLA. Remember our Emeril saucepan? I always felt so fancy using it and now I'm going to eat in one of his restaurants.

At night the streets are lit with lanterns, their flickering light casting an atmosphere to die for.

New Orleans has the most vibrant feel to it. It somehow seems that there is more life and more death there than anywhere I've ever experienced. It's like the people have experienced a deeper pain and a greater joy and they're somehow brave enough to share it, to exude it.

It's beautiful and frightening.

We found an amazing place on Bourbon Street. I say we found it, but of course Deanna led us there on purpose. It's called Lafitte's Blacksmith Shop. Yes, I'm pretty sure it's the same Lafitte as before.

The stories about him are incredible. Him and his brother were pirates in the waters around New Orleans. Apparently they got busted by the government and in order to get a legal pardon of sorts, they helped Jackson defeat the British during the war of 1812 because they kind of ruled the waters. After that they spied for the Spanish during the Mexican War for Independence.

I suppose most pirates have pretty gruesome ends. No one seems to really know how the Lafitte's died. Lots of speculation, but no facts.

They went back to pirating after being spies and even founded a colony on Galveston Island completely based in stolen goods.

I can remember struggling with learning history in school and being so bored. Then I come to a place like New Orleans, full of the rich history of so many peoples and I'm inspired to learn as much as I possibly can.

Most of the towns I've been in so far have belonged only to America, though the land belonged to others first. But New Orleans has belonged to so many different countries and it shows. A beautiful mixing pot of cultures. Different languages and accents mixing and flowing through the streets.

At one point Dad and Gary got completely obsessed by some alligator art, and Deanna and I slipped away and discovered a cobblestone street with decorations still up for Mardi Gras, or maybe up in preparation for Mardi Gras next year. It was a bit quieter, but you could still smell the spicy cooking, seemingly completely immersed in the aesthetic that is New Orleans.

Deanna is really cool. There were a few times when it seemed like she was going to say something and then hesitated. My mind jumps to all the things she might be thinking she should be scolding me about as your friend, but the only thing she's actually said is that she wished she'd spent more time with you and Dad when you were alive. Gotten to know me a bit as a kid.

I get the feeling there was awkwardness for some reason, and I can't put my finger on why I'm getting that feeling. Gary has no awkwardness, so it must have been something to do with Deanna.

Or maybe it was completely to do with Gary and he just has no idea that such a thing as awkwardness exists.

It's probably that last part.

Whatever it was, the three of them seem to have fallen into a bit of a rhythm today. An easy banter which shows that at one point in time they knew each other very well. I've found myself being more quiet than usual, just enjoying their conversation and comfort level with each other.

Dad has laughed more today than I heard for a long time. I don't think he was unhappy before, but he seems lighter now.

Maybe it's because he's on vacation and doesn't have to think about work, or child support, or that the two of you fought again.

I'm beginning to see how the two of you loved each other very much, but there was a legitimate reason you weren't together. You were fire and he is earth. Sometimes that's just not compatible.

I wonder if Dad came to the same realization, or if he's still struggling. I'm not convinced he's over you yet.

Tomorrow we're going to Lake Pontchartrain. I remember listening to the song as a kid with the windows in our car rolled down, blasting it as loud as possible.

I wish you were here, but for the first time I am content with the group I'm with. I hope that's not disloyal. I hope you know I still love you as much as I ever could. I still miss you.

Bo.