They’d have their things. We’d have ours.

They went to Europe.

We went to a baseball game.

They went to Burning Man.

We finished the details of planning my wedding.

That’s how it always was. My brave, adventurous brother, full of wander lust, would convince my mom to abandon her creature comforts and go on outings of epic proportions.

Dad and me? We’d stay home.

Watch old cowboy movies and eat cheeseburgers from Chili’s. Paint walls, organize things, eat breakfast at diners and make waffles with strawberries and whipped cream.

This week they’re going to Spain.

And I’m here, wishing you were too, because they went on an adventure and you went home to heaven instead.

I panicked slightly when my mom sent her last text on U.S. soil. Gulping loudly in the office, I told myself to breathe. Anxiety suppressed by therapist induced mantras – I am safe and nothing bad is going to happen while they are away and we can live full, beautiful lives in our own unique ways.

I still worry about where people are and the next time I’ll talk to them and when, by God, we all can just arrive safely in our beds.  I know it isn’t a good use of my mental energy – wondering if people are safe – and so this week I’m repeating over and over God, I turn my loved ones over to you.

This trusting, it feels hard, but it doesn’t have to be.

Tonight, I was planning on going to yoga and when working meetings went late I retreated home. I passed on watching a softball game and cooked a delicious dinner for myself instead. I poured a glass of wine – more anxiety suppression. And I sit now, eating my food, wondering how I’m supposed to acknowledge today’s National Cheeseburger Day and you were not here.

They’re in Spain. It’s National Cheeseburger Day. I’m eating salmon instead.

So I write, sharing my story and hope you see my words just like others do. That you’re still here, in my heart and my memories and you’d be proud of the way I lined the pan with foil so the fish skin doesn’t stick to the metal.

I’ve got my own adventure planned – we leave soon – and we, too, will bravely chase our dreams into foreign cities.

You probably would have stayed home anyway.

New adventures … healthy dinners … white wine … missing you.

All beautiful things.