One Year Ago on the North Shore: A Drive with Laura

One year ago this past Saturday, Laura took me on a drive she loved.

She was already sick—so very sick—but that didn’t stop her from wanting to share something beautiful. From her home in Oakdale, Minnesota, we headed north, tracing the edge of Lake Superior up the North Shore to Duluth and Grand Marais. It was one of her favorite drives, a route she knew like the pages of a well-loved book.

We made stops along the way for sightseeing, for quiet, for garlic bread at Sven & Ole’s in Grand Marais—something she insisted on, even though food had long since lost its pleasure for her. That garlic bread, that town, that lake—they were all part of her story.

Laura passed away just weeks later, the first week of August. She was 54.

But on that June day, despite the shadow of illness, she was luminous. She was sharing something sacred with me—a road, a view, a meal, a memory. And that drive became a chapter in my own story now, one I will return to often in my heart.

When I think of books that travel the world, I think also of people like Laura, who were the journey. She showed me that even as the final pages approach, we can still open new chapters for someone else. We can still give them beauty, laughter, direction—even garlic bread.

Wherever you are reading this from, I hope you take the drive. I hope you make the stop. I hope you remember that the story isn’t always about how far we go, but who we bring with us, and what we choose to share along the way.

For Laura—who loved books, loved the North Shore, and loved fiercely until the very end—thank you. You are missed. You are remembered. You still travel with me.