Last week, we took a trip. It was a spontaneous kind of trip that we planned about a month or so ago on a whim.

“Let’s go to San Antonio.”

Granted, there was an ulterior motive to help a dear friend who just purchased a home after her divorce. She had projects. Like honey to a fly, those projects they are, and Sam was salivating.

But so was Rhonda. San Antonio used to be home and it has been so long…there’s just no place like home.

So, we bought plane tickets, made the arrangements, packed a suitcase of clothes and another suitcase full of tools, and on Thursday afternoon, we drove the 5 hours to Denver to fly to my “home away from home.”

There is nothing quite like going home. There is nothing quite like seeing an old friend and reconnecting like it was yesterday. There is nothing quite like going from single digit temperatures to mid-60’s and 70’s sunshine.

I am certain I was a little annoying in the rental car. “I remember THIS!” “Oh, look at that building – that’s new.” “There’s where the girls had birthday parties.” “It’s so strange seeing these street names again!” Bittersweet it all was – San Antonio was my favorite place in the whole wide world…

I am grateful for Mexican restaurants at Market Square.

I am grateful for a beautiful family who welcomed us with open arms and let Sam play with a drill.

I am grateful for those things that remain the same and make San Antonio such a charming city.

I am grateful for fresh, ouch-ouch-ouch-those-are-hot-tortillas, rolled up with melted butter, even if they made me feel and look like I gained 10 pounds.

I am grateful for beautiful blue skies, mariachi musicians, and a warm stroll through the King William District on a Sunday afternoon.

I am grateful for a husband who doesn’t mind handing over the keys and riding in the passenger seat for the day so that I can drive all over the place and feel some independence.

I am grateful for hand-holding, for soft conversation over a late lunch about such a wonderful weekend getaway, for a husband who doesn’t just talk about doing things but does them, for quiet moments of watching him take it all in, for the time we have, just the two of us.

I am grateful for moments like this that happened as we were waiting to board the plane to go back home on Sunday evening:

“Dallas flight 2467 passenger, Tony Romo, please come to Gate A11 for boarding.”

The entire terminal looked up and directly at Gate A11, where we were seated. I must admit, I was a little curious and slightly excited we might be flying with a celebrity.

5 minute pause.

“Dallas flight 2467 passenger, Tony Romo, please come to Gate A11 for boarding.”

Another long pause.

“Last call for passenger Tony Romo, flight 2467 to Dallas.”

A little shorter pause.

“Well…I guess he’s a no-show like he was in the playoffs.”

And then you heard the groans and uproarious laughter up and down the halls.  It made us smile as we watched the various airport circus acts walk by, waiting to board.

We eventually arrived back in Denver, wincing at the frigid temperatures and wishing our weekend was a day or several longer. We were so tired, but it was a happy, fulfilled tired. Sam was anxious to sleep in his own bed, so even though it was 11 pm before we could see the Denver airport in our rear view mirror, we headed east in the dark of a Sunday night.

When we arrived home early on Monday morning, we were greeted with concrete.

I am grateful for concrete, at least I am in this circumstance.

I am grateful for neighbors and friends unknown who thought of us and shoveled and moved piles of snow so that a 5 am arrival was welcoming.

There’s just no place like home.

Finally, I am grateful for more memories made with Sam.

Everyone should do a Dorothy and be spontaneous every once in awhile. Visit the place you love with the one(s) you love. Don’t wait. You may never pass this way again.