Twelve Hours Later, We’re Home

Twelve Hours Later, We’re Home

June 21, 2025

I woke up later than usual this morning—tired from the day before, trying to move quietly so I wouldn’t wake Bella or Barbi. I slipped into workout clothes, grabbed my cup with mineral salt, and stepped outside for some fresh air.

The morning air outside the hotel was calm. I walked around a bit, taking in the stillness, just observing and letting the day start slow.

Then my phone rang—it was Bella.

“Are you going to the gym?” she asked.

I told her I’d come get her, and we’d go together.

Once we got there, we warmed up with some cardio and then moved into our own rhythms—she did her thing, I did mine. We finished with dumbbells, a few rounds of medicine ball work, and a short treadmill cooldown.

Back in the room, we packed up our things and carried them down to load the car. With everything packed and ready, we made a stop at Buc-ee’s. The plan was just to get coffee, but like always, we left with way more than we intended.

Once on the road, Bella kept us posted on how her friends were doing at the SYC Super Slam in Delaware. She followed every division, giving us live updates on scores, patterns, and standings—not bowling herself, just supporting from afar, locked in like a true student of the game.

We made a few phone calls to friends and family—checking in, laughing, catching up. At one gas stop, I met a man and his daughter who were traveling with a horse trailer. Inside was a beautiful rescue horse. We talked about how they’d come to care for her. It was one of those unexpected pauses that makes the day richer.

As the miles passed, so did the memories—singing in the car, pointing out old hotels from past tournaments: the PBA Junior Finals, Bella’s first Junior Gold. Places that used to just be exits now carry whole stories.

We eventually stopped at Brahms near Oklahoma City. What started as a bathroom break turned into a meal—Barbi got burgers and a chocolate shake, Bella went with a java ice cream waffle cone, and I sampled sherbet until I landed on the orange. It was simple, and it was perfect.

Back on the road, we caught the College World Series game on the phone—LSU vs. Coastal Carolina. By the time we made it home around 9 p.m., twelve hours after we’d left, LSU had held on for a 1–0 win in a true pitcher’s duel.

We were welcomed by wagging tails and tired eyes. Bella let the dogs greet us, Barbi got into bed, and I sat down with a bowl of rice she made for us. The car was unloaded. The day was full.

Now, the house is quiet. Bella’s winding down, Barbi’s resting, and I’m journaling by the soft light of home.

We’re back.

We’re safe.

We’re grateful.