Dad always had an interesting relationship with his cars.

In the late 1990s, on one of my visits to see him, I noticed there was a brand-new 1998 Honda CRV sitting in his driveway.

I didn't think much of it at the time.

Little did I know that this would become the penultimate Riggsmobile: the car he would drive for nearly thirty years, the vehicle that would carry him through an enormous portion of his life, and ultimately, the last car he would ever own.

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I've decided, in the tradition of my father, to use this space to share various thoughts and musings and also stories about the incomparable Mr. John Riggs which I think are worth telling (some of which I am surprised he apparently never told himself).

It's been a little over a month, as of this writing, since I held dad's hand and watched him take his final breath. Everything that was mortal of the mighty John Riggs has now been reduced to a pile of fine, beige-colored powdery ash which has been split evenly between me and his wife, Laurie. The funeral is over, the well-wishers have returned to their normal routines, and I am left now to "process."