Ok, we are going to Del Rio again.

The last time we went was a quick weekend though.

It was too quick, so we are going back.

Mostly because I feel like I didn’t get to say goodbye to my grandparent’s house.

Seems like a weird thing to say.

Seeing their house again was sad though.

It was sad because they were not there, and because it still smelled like them.

It smelled like it did when I was eight years old.

It’s the summer, it’s hot outside, and dinner is ready.

I need a shower, but I don’t have time to get one before dinner.

My mom and grandmother are in the kitchen cooking and setting the table as my grandfather calls us in

I come in the back sliding-door and the cold AC hits me in the face as I pass through the threshold.

That instant.

It still smells like that.

But a hurricane hit Houston last week and everyone is in a scare about possible gasoline shortages.

In their fear, everyone is running to fill their gas tanks and gas stations are – in the short-term anyway – running out of gas.

Don’t even get me started on economics.

I hope we make it back.

I love you.

–Dad