When I was young, my father would go out of his way on the way to St. George from New Mexico to visit his parents to go through Zion National Park. We loved the big long tunnels! At the time, you could stop inside the tunnels and get out of your car to look out the windows at the vista. My father died in 1983. I have not been back since he died. This spring, when we were in St. George watching a baseball tournament, my hubby and I made the detour on the way home. It healed a place in my heart I didn’t even know was broken.