By June, the Irvine house was under contract and our departure for Morocco was getting close.
But first we drove to New Mexico.
Rachel was expecting Kendra, and we had planned the trip so we could be there around the birth. There wasn't a sightseeing itinerary. The point was to spend time with Rachel and the grandchildren, help with the older kids, and welcome our newest granddaughter.
Heading East
We loaded the Audi and drove from California toward New Mexico.
By now, even familiar places along the route were beginning to feel different.
We knew the Irvine house was being sold.
We knew we'd soon be leaving the country.
And we didn't know when we'd next make this drive.
At one point, passing Petrified Forest, we talked about stopping.
We didn't.
There would always be a next time.
Except now we were beginning to understand that there might not be.
Not because anything terrible was going to happen.
Simply because our lives were changing enough that we couldn't assume we'd travel the same roads again.
Seeing the Kids
The main purpose of the trip was simple: family.
We spent time with Rachel and the grandchildren and helped where we could.
There wasn't much sightseeing.
That wasn't why we'd come.
And then Rachel went into labor.
Suddenly what had been an ordinary family visit became something else entirely.
Kendra
Kendra was born while we were there, just as we'd hoped.
While Rachel was at the hospital, Shirley and I helped take care of the older kids.
It was chaotic.
Meals. Bedtimes. Keeping track of everyone. All the normal commotion that comes with three young children.
We were reminded fairly quickly that we'd gotten out of practice.
But this was why we'd come.
We had arranged the time so that when Rachel needed us, we could simply be there.
And then there was a new granddaughter.
Kendra.
A Different Kind of Trip
There were no extraordinary hotels.
No safaris.
No Michelin-starred meals.
No new country to explore.
We were grandparents helping with the kids while our daughter had a baby.
And that was enough.
In some ways, the timing made the visit more meaningful.
We were about to begin another long stretch of travel, but being able to drive to New Mexico and be present for something this important reminded us that mobility wasn't only about seeing the world.
Sometimes freedom meant being able to show up.
The Drive Home
Eventually we loaded the Audi and headed west toward Irvine.
This time the drive felt different.
At one point we passed Petrified Forest National Park and talked about stopping. We didn't. Normally the assumption would have been easy: we'll stop next time.
But now we wondered whether there would be a next time.
Not in some ominous sense. Our lives were simply changing.
The Irvine house was being sold. Soon the Audi would go into storage. We were leaving for Morocco and didn't know when we'd next drive this route—or whether our future travels would bring us this way at all.
For years, familiar places had seemed permanently available to us.
Now we were beginning to understand that choosing a new life also meant there would be last times we wouldn't recognize as last times until they had passed.
What We'll Remember
We'll remember going to New Mexico because a fourth grandchild was about to arrive.
We'll remember taking care of the older kids while Rachel was having the baby.
We'll remember the commotion and how quickly we'd gotten out of practice.
We'll remember meeting Kendra.
And we'll remember the drive back to California, passing Petrified Forest and realizing that the familiar promise of we'll do it next time no longer felt quite so certain.
Would We Return?
Of course.
New Mexico wasn't really the destination.
Family was.
And as our lives became increasingly untethered from a particular place, that distinction was becoming more important.
We could travel almost anywhere.
But there were still people who would always pull us back.
Eventually, it was time to leave.
We loaded the Audi again and headed west.
This time we weren't simply driving home.
We were returning to Irvine to leave it.