Well, we survived Mexico.

It was a long weekend – a long drive that is – and we found enough gas to get down and back.

It turns out that the gas shortage was a little over-blown.

We did make it out to see the Amistad dam.

My grandfather worked there years ago.

The issue was that the border checkpoint was two miles closer to the highway than it was the last time I was there.

So we crossed through the checkpoint leaving, and nobody even waved at us.

We took pictures by the statues on the dam, the checkpoint into Mexico is another hundred yards away.

When we finished we piled back in the car and drove back to the U.S. checkpoint.

The Border Patrol guy came out, and when I rolled down my window, he asked for our passports.

Apparently you need passports to go to Mexico and back now.

When I was in high school and college, you could go across just for the fun of it.

I remember going to Mexico to eat dinner at an old steakhouse with my grandparents years ago. The host knew them by name.

Nevertheless, I told the agent we didn’t have passports.

So he asked for our driver’s licenses, and if we were U.S. citizens.

We gave them to him and said that we were.

He came back from his booth a minute later and asked:

“Are you really 6’7″?”

We laughed and nodded as he told us to have a good day.

The way mom probably tells this story is that her and her babies were essentially arrested in Mexico.

In the end, I am not sure there was a lot of peace to be had seeing my grandparents house again.

Being there was just sad.

It felt like I had to shut the door on a long chapter of my life.

I don’t have a home I grew up in and out of to go back to.

My parents are still in the house I went to high school in, but my grandparent’s house was the last place I can remember always being a constant.

Nothing is a constant though is it?

We are all just passing through.

I am so glad I got to pass through this life with you.

I love you.

–Dad