New Year 2026

As I write this, the house is dark and quiet, except for the cats exploring and playing. Tomorrow is a new year and a new page for many people. This time last year, I didn't expect so many changes, but my life brought both good and not-so-good ones.

On March 12th, we had to say goodbye to our Jasper. That was a tough time for me. Cats tend to choose 'their person,' and I was Jasper's choice. He followed me around the house and sat with me wherever I was. Jennifer told me Jasper would sit with her until I walked into the house. He would jump up to follow me everywhere I went. I made Jasper a promise when he was young: I would be there when he took his last breath. Several years before, we walked out of the room when Marie, our 15-year-old cat, was put down. Her scream when we walked out of the room still haunts me. That sad day when we had to take Jasper, the Vet said to put our hands on Jasper; we should be able to feel his heart stop beating. Jasper purred so loudly that I felt his purr instead of his heart. The moment the purring stopped was tough for me, but I fulfilled my promise to him.

Mom and Dad live at the Crossing, which is on my way home from work. Dad had been placed into hospice care the last week of March. I stopped by several times to see how he was doing. On March 31st, I stopped by, and he was sleeping. I visited with Mom for a while, then stopped by Dad's room to say goodbye. A family friend, a nurse, showed up just as I was leaving. About an hour after I got home, Mom called to say that Dad had passed away. Jennifer and I drove over to be with Mom. I looked in Dad's room, where he was still on his bed. He looked so peaceful. My brothers and family showed up not long after we got there. We all sat in the living room talking and calling family friends. The funeral home arrived, and as they wheeled Dad out of his room, they stopped. Mom got up with the help of my brothers and me. She kissed him on his forehead to say goodbye. They covered him and wheeled him away. I was thankful that my brother and I were there for that moment.

Dad had in his will that he did not want a funeral, but to wait to have a combined funeral later for him and Mom. I was shocked, but that was his wish. We did have an interment ceremony at the National Cemetery in Houston for him.

In the weeks and months after March, I numbly went through my daily routine at work and then back home. The week after Dad passed away, I received the second-highest award NASA gives to civilians: the Space Flight Awareness Honoree Award. I was surprised and humbled to receive this award. At work, I designed and set up a communications link with the International Space Station, and we didn't know whether it would work until the Space Station was in range. It worked perfectly. The Astronauts spoke with Boeing management by HD video link for about 20 minutes until they were out of range. This is what the award was for. I wish I could have shown Dad the award plaque, since he spent so many years working at NASA. I also spent a lot of time working in the garage and made good progress on the Bug build. Hearing the air-cooled engine that I built from scratch fire up for the first time was a highlight for me. Two accomplishments like these help me stay focused: life isn't all sorrow; it has good things, too. Life must go on.

I took two weeks off in July, so Jennifer and I could go on a road trip. I needed to get away from my daily routine for a while. We had good visits with family and friends along the way. We had no set plans for this trip, and since we were in Indiana, I was looking at the map to find a different way home than the one we'd driven to get here. I saw we were not far from Springfield, Illinois, where Route 66 begins in Chicago. So we hatched a plan to drive Route 66 from Springfield, Illinois, to Oklahoma City, then turn south for home. I had always wanted to drive Route 66, so we now have the first stretch behind us. My long-range plan to finish the Route 66 drive is to take Nellie Belle, our 1953 Chevy Wagon, out west from Oklahoma City. Right now, Nellie Belle is totally stock and not roadworthy. I plan to modernize the Wagon completely, but make it as pretty as the day my grandfather bought it in 1953. I have a few more things to do to the Bug to get it roadworthy before I can switch the garage around to work on the Wagon. At 67 years old, I fear that the longer I wait, the less physically able I will be to work on such an aggressive build. But I will take that one day at a time. After the Wagon build, I still have the Corvette to finish.

2025 had its mountains and deep valleys, but I am thankful for each day. I pray that 2026 will be as exciting and less sorrowful as this last year.