My Aunt Diane was traveling through Yugoslavia and Eastern Europe when she received word that I was born. Her sister, my mom, played tricks on her and told her via telegram that she had birthed another daughter. Weeks later, when Diane finally made it back to Detroit, my mom asked her to go in to change my diaper, to which she had a huge surprise. The stories of her trip though, traveling as a single woman through the heart of Eastern Europe by plane, train, and hitch hiking next to dubious drivers on more dubious roads captured my imagination as a little boy as they do now as a man. This is where Diane resides in me, from the time I was in a crib. Traveling back roads, taking narrow paths. Stoking my imagination and wonder. Stealing dusty books off her extensive book shelf. Encountering ideas that were too large for me to grasp, yet encouraging to me to grow to them. I watched her handle adversity with grace and strength, and I am once again encouraged to rise above my limitations and grow to grasp ideas that are too large to wrap my mind around.