“We will credit your account with $250 toward travel to anywhere you’d like to go,” she said. “Where would you like to go?”

“Well, in recent years, I’ve developed an interest in the national parks. Maybe to one of those someday,” I responded after a long pause.

“Great. All we’ll need is a non-refundable deposit, then I will drop the funds into your account. You have one year to redeem this offer.”

“I think I’ll have to decline the offer for now. You see, I don’t have a traveling buddy.”

“You’ll find someone. You don’t want to miss this opportunity.”

“Ma’am, I lost my husband. He packed our suitcase. He planned our stops. He was my opportunity.”

“OK. Sorry.” Click.

Oh the little things. Or, I mean, big things, that poke a tender heart. Oh the little missing details that are part of trips, part of deals, part of planning, part of excitement and anticipation. Who will check me in? Me. Who will park the car? Me. Who will arrange for transportation? Accommodations? Who will take the photos? Me. Who will pay the bill? Me. Who will check the statement? Me. Read the directions, maps, pamphlets?

I use to trip with a travel agent, tour guide, concierge, ticket master, taxi driver. I use to just bag a snack, take a hand and go.

I think I’ll decline the offer for now. Unless God either provides a buddy or I muster more get-up, I think I’ll wait to travel the Heavenly landscape with you, Babe. I know you and Jesus will take care of every trip detail again, just as it was before. And, I don’t mind staying home.