Two years ago at this time, I was on a Hurtigruten cruise with my dad in Greenland. It was the first trip we’d taken alone together, I’m quite sure, in my entire life. And already on the first day, I got distracted by a charming photographer from Stockholm who snapped this photo of me chilling under the midnight sun one lovely white night. The three of us – my dad, me and Daniel – wound up spending a lot of time together that week, along with a fun German couple we met. Daniel was a center-of-attention kind of guy, funny and with that special male Scandinavian fashion ability to pull off pairing a wife beater with a femme scarf, and always pulling out his iPad at the table to show us photos he’d taken in other exotic locales (Namibia! Norway!) or dishing out photography advice (very welcomed by my camera-loving father) over cocktails in the lounge. My dad still talks about that trip, still dreams of doing another like it, still says things like, “Two years ago today, do you remember where we were, Terry? Did I thank you for that?” It awakened some wanderlust in him he hadn’t gotten to indulge for a while. It let him see a window into my life, too, I imagine. He seemed to enjoy Daniel’s company and meeting new people on the boat. But looking back, I wonder if I’ll always have this gnawing regret that I didn’t make that week more about me and my dad and less about someone else. I’m so glad we had this chance to travel together, but I also hope I’ll have the chance to give it another go down the road.