It was the final night of our three-week visit to Greece. Our first time in this gorgeous country left us in an unexpected state of awe. Chatter filled the air all day about how we plan to and can’t wait to return. Someday.

I like buffers. When I dine, there is a little elbow room in the restaurant. When I walk, there is space between myself and others. I like buffers in time, too. Arriving early so as not to break a sweat, like in an airport. I especially like buffers when I travel—a day on the front and a day on the back, if not more. We had one buffer night in Greece, where we could wind down and take (another) easy breath before the taxi ride to the airport after airport after airport.

On this night, we had lodging booked in the Vouliagmeni area across Athens.

Never one to miss a sunset, we walked the half block to the water's edge and passed by three locals sitting in the park playing backgammon on a large table-size board. Sitting on the folding chairs they carried over from their homes, an evening ritual was underway. We hurried past, doing our best not to invade their space while also taking in every moment they were sharing.

At the shore, the only movement was the three kids laughing and splashing and begging for a few more minutes in Greek. I could tell that is what they were saying because moms know.

Earlier in the day, we spent every last minute at the luxury pool in our hotel until we needed to catch the taxi. And, when I say every minute, I mean we still had our swimsuits on.

I looked at the kids in the water.

I looked at the sunset.

I looked at Greece.

I took in the moment.

I looked at Greece again.

I remember my childhood in a small rural town.

My heart took over. How could I POSSIBLY pass this moment up?

In I went.