Dear G. P. S.,

How can I explain the changes you brought to my life? The freedom I feel because of you? You have broaden my horizons. You have broken my chains. You have freed me from the confines of Canadian County and exposed me to the wonders of the world.

Never again will I remain in my hotel room, afraid to venture forth. With you I can go anywhere. Never again will I drive in circles looking for the nearest bookstore. You make my path clear.

True, we’ve had our disagreements. You’ve insisted there’s no bridge to Tuttle. By now you should know I’d never drive 70 mph through a pasture and over a riverbank. But you’re learning to trust me. And I’m learning, too.

I’m learning to listen. I’m learning there’s a difference between “keep right,” “merge right,” and “exit right.” And you are a gentle teacher. When I make a mistake, you don’t berate me. You say “recalculating” as if it was your pleasure –  as if your greatest joy is finding other routes I could take. And I think it is.

Am I worthy? I realize you could do much better. With your skills you could navigate a limo to the Academy Awards. You could find a hidden compound for Seal Team Six. Yet you’ve stayed with me, directing me to my writer’s group every month, although I should know the way by now. Sometimes you ride along in silence, happy to keep a map before me without saying a word. You are so humble.

Thank you, G. P. S.  for being there on my dash. Thank you for persevering through the tough times.

The road ahead is brighter because of you.

Together we will go far.

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