Photo courtesy of author.
I didn’t go to The Who concert with him. I met him afterward at The Wine Press in Dallas’s Oak Lawn neighborhood for what was supposed to be a quick cup of coffee — and by the time we left, I knew I’d marry him.
He had recently returned from six weeks of backpacking across Europe. That summer, I had spent several weeks visiting my parents in Jerusalem. If you’ve ever caught the travel bug, you know how quickly you recognize it in someone else. Suddenly you’re swapping stories about trains, cities, people, food, and unforgettable moments as though you’ve known each other for years.
It certainly didn’t hurt that he was studying to become an English teacher while I was in my fourth year of teaching English at an inner-city high school.
Driving home that evening, one thought kept repeating in my mind: I think this is the man I’m going to marry.
Within a year, we did.
Like many young educators, though, we weren’t exactly living a jet-setting lifestyle. With little financial help from our parents and two teacher salaries, overseas adventures would have to wait. So instead, we had two children.
A few years later, I discovered educational travel programs that offered one free traveler for every six paying students. That was all I needed to hear. Instead of finding six students, I found twenty-four — enough free spots to bring our whole family along, even five-year-old Analise.
Costa Rica became our first international adventure together. We were hooked.
Over the years, those student trips took us throughout Mexico and Europe several more times. During the summers in between, we piled into the car for road trips across America. Somehow, we always found a way to travel, because we believed the gift of travel would give our children something no classroom could ever fully teach.
Giving each grandchild a trip instead of a toy
Then life moved wonderfully forward. By 2024, we had four grandchildren, ranging from one to eight years old.
A new idea began to take shape: What if we gave each grandchild a trip instead of another toy? What if, for their tenth birthday, they could choose a destination and spend several unforgettable days traveling with their Mia and Pops?
On our oldest grandson Porter’s eighth birthday, we gave him a lighted globe that doubled as a nightlight. We told him he had two years to decide where he wanted to go.
His first choice was Japan. Nineteen hours on an airplane quickly eliminated that. Then came England — still a little too ambitious. Finally, he picked San Francisco. The city checked every box. He loved chocolate, he loved the San Francisco 49ers, and neither of us had to cross an ocean to get there.
Born on St. Patrick’s Day, Porter also enjoys a spring-break birthday, making a long weekend the perfect time for our adventure. At ten, he was in that magical stage of childhood — old enough to remember the trip forever, yet still young enough to rest his head on my shoulder during the flight. As every grandparent knows, those moments don’t last.
A birthday near a school break makes it easy, but any long holiday weekend will do. You don’t need two weeks away. You need three days that are yours and your grandchild’s alone.
What traveling with grandchildren taught me
Travel always has a way of teaching us something new, even in a place we think we know. San Francisco reminded me of a few things about traveling with grandchildren that I want to carry into every trip still to come.
Choose people over technology. For fun, we tried a driverless Waymo once — then spent the rest of the trip riding with Lyft drivers instead. Our conversations carried us to Bangladesh, Brazil, and China, all before we reached the next corner.
Share the room. At ten, a grandchild still likes being close by. Those bedtime conversations, in the dark, half-asleep, became some of the sweetest moments of the whole trip.
Let them help plan it. Porter wanted to walk across the Golden Gate Bridge and find real Chinese food in Chinatown. Both became his favorite days — because they were his idea.
Order the hot fudge sundae. Calories don’t count nearly as much when you’re making memories at Ghirardelli Square. Share one if you must, but don’t skip it.
Keep a journal and make a book. Each evening, we wrote about our day and read our entries aloud, often remembering different details, which made the stories even richer. Long after the suitcase is unpacked, those pages — and the photo book we made afterward — become treasures.
Our next traveler is six-year-old Ellie. Her tenth birthday is still a few years off, but you can bet we’re already dreaming about where her passport will take her. Because after all these years, I’ve learned that the greatest souvenirs aren’t the ones you carry home. They’re the people you bring along with you — especially when one of them is your grandchild.
⇒Read next: Baby Boomers Trade Inheritance for Unforgettable Family Trips — the same idea, one generation up.
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