when i die, i’ll be cremated. have your passports ready. in my safe deposit box will be the cash to pay for the flights, hotels and restaurants to scatter my ashes in the waters off:
- block island, rhode island where i asked your mom to marry me
- boca grade where we were married
- st barts where we honeymooned, and
my vision is that the three of you will do this together, alone. no girlfirends (or boyfriends if thats the case), wives or kids. solo. the broneah boys.
timing (hopefully I’ll be around a long time) will probably dictate you carve things up in chunks. thats cool. just as long as the three of you do it together.
one last thing: you need to travel together versus meet at the destinations independently. you’ll figure out the “why”.