Dallas/Fort Worth. I’m sure Denver would have wrecked me even more but so much about flying reminded us of Danny that even avoiding it was no picnic.

Flying to and from Colorado for 13 years. Flying to and from Rome with him and Ella in 2024. Flying to California together many times.

I finally cried at Gate 45B waiting for our connecting flight.

Afterwards, a very nice man who was traveling alone struck up a conversation with us. I’m sure he’d seen my shoulders shaking, my awkward hunt for a Kleenex. Even though we spoke of ordinary travel topics, it felt like grace.

The clouds upon arrival did not disappoint.

Nor did the quaint airport terminal! It was house-scaled. So manageable. In the bathroom, not an electronic sensor in sight! It felt so familiar, turning water on with a handle, pushing the soap out with the heel of my hand. I hadn’t realized how much I missed mechanical fixtures.

Our Airbnb is one of the nicest we’ve ever stayed in.

We had dinner in town. I cried at the table as well. Not an indictment of the food, mind. That was tasty.

There is a Basilica in St Francis’s honor. I will light some votives in Danny’s name at some point.