My love story to the ride home

I get out of the airport terminal and see them there, waiting with glints of excitement in their eyes. We run towards them and embrace, spewing greetings and irrelevant banter after our much-anticipated arrival. We get outside with our luggage and are immediately taken aback by the Arizona heat. Then we get in the car and start our drive — the drive that is so familiar and comforting, yet feels like a brand new journey every time. 

We drive by many familiar sights: a plethora of Walmarts, Ikeas, old time-y diners, hotels, and cacti. We pass the beautiful Old Bisbee and through the tunnel that we scream at the top of our lungs while inside. We drive eagerly around the roundabout with the Mango de Hacha monument, knowing we’re almost there. 

We’re on our way. We’re going home.