Ken walked beside me as we got off the plane wearing a cartoon backpack and pulling his own little roller suitcase. He was growing up much too fast for my liking.

We went to the entryway of the airport where my mom said she’d have a driver waiting for us. She couldn’t leave my dad.

I looked around for someone holding a “Richardson” sign but there wasn’t anyone there.

While we waited, I noticed several men looking at me, eyeing me up and down as ...