If he could, he’d sit with me in a place like this, basking in the stunning mountain scene he adored. We’d reminisce about our shared love of all things nature and mountains.

I think he’d say, “I love you sweetheart,” and “I’m proud of you,” because, he always was, even when I wasn’t doing anything to make him proud.

He loved my work, my mission and my desire to help others. Just like my dad, I was born to be a coach.

He’d tell me we shared the spirit of a Promethean, and he’d remind me to be quiet so nature could share its wisdom. He probably would lecture me and I’d take it for granted. Now I’d love to hear it all again.

My dad was charismatic, handsome, funny and would light up any room he entered. Everyone knew Quentin and Quentin knew everybody.

Our parents shape us in so many ways, the memories aren’t ever perfect, but in his case, I really do think he did his best and his love was never, ever a question. He adored all of his children and grandchildren.

Today, my siblings and I get the honor of hiking him to his final resting place in the mountains and park he loved most.

Sending his ashes on the wind and lettting him be free, his favorite feeling ever.

It’s been odd this past year since he passed. The number of times I’ve picked up the phone to call him or the ache I’ve often felt without his steady precense in our lives.

The world got 98 years of his earthly journey, and yet, it still didn’t seem like nearly long enough.

Love you dad.

Forever Go Blue 💙💛