A Sense of Where You Are

Aaron Pace
Toward Wisdom
Published in
5 min readSep 29, 2024

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My dad remarried in 1994 not long after my mom passed away following a lengthy battle with cancer. My dad and bonus mom decided it would be fun to send the kids to Disneyland — a chance to get to know each other better, I suppose—while they had their honeymoon a little closer to home.

My dad handed the keys to our family van to his parents, and my five siblings piled in with them. I don’t remember the circumstances why I had to fly to California while the rest of the family drove, but I left the day following the rest of my family’s departure.

I was always a nervous kid and remember my dad emphasizing to his dad the importance of being at the airport when I arrived the following day.

I flew to San Diego where we would stay the night then spend the following day at Sea World before driving north to Anaheim.

My flight was scheduled to arrive in San Diego at around noon. The instruction: I would exit the airport at the appointed terminal where my grandparents and siblings would be waiting for me.

In 1994, the Salt Lake City International airport was nothing like the bustling hub it is today nor were any of the companion restrictions in place that were imposed after 9–11. My parents walked me right to the gate, I hugged them, and got on the plane.

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Aaron Pace
Toward Wisdom

Married to my best friend. Father to five exuberant children. Fledgling entrepreneur. Writer. Software developer. Inventory management expert.