oes Fort Worth ever go through your mind?

oes Fort Worth ever go through your mind?

It’s 5 a.m., and this little house is quiet, save for the ticking of the fan spinning round and round. Outside lies Fort Worth, Texas, home to my son Hunter, daughter-in-law Dona and grandson Nico. I can hear George breathing beside me as he slumbers.

I haven’t seen our grandson since that lush June wedding at our house when he still seemed like a baby. Now when I watch him run from room to room, he’s an entire person. He was shy upon seeing me but soon came around with the many words he’s been trying to formulate from his rosebud lips. He is all the entertainment we’ve needed the past several days — a handful of peaceful, cozy hours before we fly away to Mexico.

I wanted to give him a hug, but over the course of several days, it was him who would decide when that moment would happen. He’s a strong personality who knows what and how he wants things, and a hug from Grandma was something that needed to be earned. And when it happened, I held his slippery, solid, little body for a few brief seconds before he ran off to find the next thing to do, his whole self a flash of vibrant energy.

Our son and his partner are hands-on amazing parents. My heart bursts knowing the home they are creating for him, one full of safety and love. I can plainly see that nothing will get in the way of them being the parents he needs them to be. He is a happy boy that loves his routine.

Stability, structure — it’s what kids crave even if they can’t pinpoint it. He knows that in the mornings he will run around and find his toys where he left them, that Mom and Dad will feed him when he’s hungry, and that his water bottle will be filled with water when he’s thirsty. He loves brushing his teeth and starts out with Mom helping him, then switching to Dad to finish out the minty fresh routine.

It’s a weird feeling knowing this little being comes from part of me. It’s a sensory experience that no one quite prepares you for.

While here we enjoyed tacos, chile rellenos, breakfast tacos, a gorgeous charcuterie board and delicious flautas made by Dona for our last supper. I made Mexican rice to round out the last meal together. There are never enough tacos to fill the belly or the soul.

I experienced my first Texas estate sale with Dona, who is a vintage online seller. We’ve bonded over thrifted items and the goodness they contain. And as I walked into the sale with her at the coolest home in Ridglea Hills, a new way of finding eclectic goods opened up to me. I was in thrall of the experience. I love her style and taste and watching her find sweet items that will go up for sale on her site. We don’t have many estate sales around us at home, but I will be looking them up and finding them nearby.

Today we leave these three and fly into Mexico for the next leg of our adventure — the little tan house holding three hearts I love dearly. They’ll be home for Christmas, which means I don’t have to wonder the next time we will be together. We will hole up at home and wait for Santa to come, supping from the cup that is family. Soon, little Nico, very soon.

Melissa Herrera is a columnist, published author and drinker of too many coffees. You can find her book, “TOÑO LIVES,” at www.tinyurl.com/Tonolives or buy one from her in person (because all authors have boxes of their own novel). For inquiries or to purchase, email her at junkbabe68@gmail.com.