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Dear Passport,
Let’s just start with the hard truth. I’ll be honest – I never really gave a second thought about having you. Growing up you were kind of on par with my library card – something mom made me apply for. Gripping you in my playground-stained hands at the age of 9 when I took my first trip out of the country (remember Alberta?) was cool, but I didn’t know why. All I know is I’ve never been without you since, and the older I get, the more I appreciate you. Your wonderful leathery cover, your glossy front page, your full, colorful pages. Confession time: Even though you are heavily-stickered, inky and slightly bent, I’ll admit you’re one of my most prized possessions. You might be a little nondescript booklet, but you’re the gateway to worlds beyond, places I have only dreamt of, places I could never have imagined.
Read more here.
