This morning, as I drove my son to soccer practice, I was struck by a wave of gratitude and reflection. The sun was just rising, painting the Arizona sky in hues of gold and pink—one of the things I know I’ll miss most about this state. Arizona’s sunrises and sunsets are unparalleled, and this morning, they felt especially meaningful. We were driving down Fain Road, a stretch of open land with breathtaking views of the landscape—cows grazing, antelopes roaming, and hawks soaring in the sky. It’s a road I’ve driven countless times, yet today, it felt different. Knowing that my family is relocating soon, I realized how much I’ll miss this drive. It’s not just the beauty of the land; it’s the memories tied to it. Twice a week, I make this trip with my son. We spend hours on the road, talking, laughing, or simply sitting in comfortable silence. These drives have become a cornerstone of our relationship. They’re a mix of everything—quiet reflection, deep conversations about life, and silly moments that make us both laugh. I look over at him, now 13 years old, and I’m amazed by how much he’s grown. He’s not just growing taller—he’s growing emotionally, mentally, and as a leader. He’s developing his mental fitness, emotional intelligence, and his skills as a soccer player. Recently, he set a goal for himself: to earn the position of striker on his team. It wasn’t handed to him; he worked hard for it. And not only did he achieve that goal, but he also earned the role of team captain. Watching him step into this leadership role fills me with pride. The reason we’ll be relocating soon is because of how much he’s thriving. He’s been invited to join a soccer academy, and as a result, we’ll be moving closer to his training facilities. While I’m thrilled for this next step in his journey, it will mean fewer long drives like this one. The drives will be shorter, and the routines will change, but I know the connection we’ve built on these trips will remain. As I reflect on this, I think about how often we take the everyday moments for granted until we realize they’re about to change. Sometimes, it’s only when we’re on the brink of losing something that we truly see its value. These drives, this time with my son, are priceless.