There’s no way I can create something so unique and beautiful, such as this blog, without giving credit to my grandfather. Words can’t begin to describe the love and respect I have for him, even though he’s no longer with us. My grandfather played a huge role in raising me, right alongside my grandmother. He didn’t have to do it, but he did.

He taught me the meaning of hard work and earning an honest dollar. He raised me tough, but he raised me right. He was a man of few words, but when he spoke, you listened because he only said things once. What a man he was! He loved working outdoors and had a deep passion for classic cars. When I visited Cuba, I couldn’t help but think of him.

It wasn’t until after my grandfather passed that I found a new sense of courage and strength to take on riskier challenges, like starting this blog. When people ask me where I get my courage from, I used to be unsure, but now I realize it all came from him. I remember everything about him—his voice, his rough hands, his funny sense of humor.

I watched my grandfather closely as I was growing up. He’d take me riding to his hometown to tend to some business, and there was a nearby bridge he’d take me to, saying it was haunted. I think he was trying to scare me, but it never did because I was with him, and with him, I always felt safe.

That stuck with me. As an adult, there’s little that I fear because I think of myself as that little boy with my grandfather by my side. It’s a constant reminder that it’s the little things that matter. So, when I travel, I look for those little things, those details that everyone else might overlook. And in every photo, I take, there’s a piece of him in there, reminding me to see the world with the same wonder and courage he taught me.

So, when you see me traveling the world alone, in foreign countries, and you wonder how I do it and why I do it, now you know it’s thanks to this man here.