One of my favorite stories about my dad is that when he started dating my mom, he was a Philippine Air Force cargo plane pilot and she was a pharmaceutical rep who drove around Manila in a company VW Beetle. He bought her a reflector and put it on top of the car, in the hopes that sometimes—he’d be flying at a low enough angle, she’d be driving around the city below, and the sunlight would shoot up and remind him who he was coming back down to earth for. I like to think some sentiment of that remains now that he’s looking down at us.